


Captured In The Woods

by Awekward



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abduction, Angst, Bottom Dean, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Time, Hurt, Hurt Dean Winchester, M/M, Mostly POV!Dean Winchester, Non-Consensual, Original Character Death(s), POV!Dean Winchester, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Teenage Dean Winchester, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-02-16 16:07:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 16
Words: 69,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2276046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Awekward/pseuds/Awekward
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Winchester has gone on yet another hunting trip to find the thing that killed his wife and has dropped Sam and Dean off at Pastor Jim's so they'd be safe.<br/>But there's a job in town and when the job's done, Sam is nowhere to be seen and they split up to search for him. Unfortunately, Dean is attacked from behind. What will happen next?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Assaulted

**Author's Note:**

> So .. This is the first work of mine I've ever posted. I'm new at this place, please forgive me for the tags if they don't quite fit. Also, there might be some spelling issues or other errors, so again please bear with me, it's my first go.
> 
> I've tagged for some things, for example "Rape/Non-con", "M/M", "Underage", but it wont really show too much in the first couple of chaptures, though I will get to that part eventually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kay, I'm having truble finding out how to make the second Notebox in the beginning here disappear again, if you know how to fo that it would be Awesome if you told me! ..

* * *

*~*~*

    Dean searches the Woods, calling Sams name out loud but Sam doesn’t answer.

    They had been on a hunt with Jim Murphy. Dad had dropped them off at his church yesterday to go on a hunt which had something to do with the thing that killed Mom.

    It turns out there was a job near the Woods, not far from the church and they helped Jim look in to it. Apparently a Ghoul has been traveling and has now come to this town, residing in the church’s cemetery. At first they didn’t know what they were dealing with, but it soon became clear.

    Some people had claimed that they had seen one of their loved ones in the woods or in town – which of course were impossible because they were dead.

    At first there were handfuls to choose from and guess what it could have been. But when they checked the graveyard, they knew. And everything indicated it was on its own.

    They prepared themselves and took off on the hunt to the cemetery. They took their guns, flashlights and their machetes so they could either shoot them in the head or decapitate them, because if they were to stop it, they had to either damage its brain or chop its head off.

    When they got there and looked for the Ghoul, Sam was jumped by it, but somehow Dean got up close. It heard him though and spun around, still holding Sammy in a tight grip.

    Dean had swung at it to get it to release Sammy, and grabbed Sam, dragged him out of its grasp and shoved him behind himself to protect him. It took off running, Jim chasing it towards the woods. Sam and Dean followed.

    That’s how they ended up in the woods in the first place, searching the woods for this bastard. They found it too, and killed it.

    But when Jim and Dean found they were alone with the dead creature, Sam nowhere to be seen, they got worried. They called out for him but he didn’t come. Dean called his cellphone but he didn’t answer.

_'Why isn’t he answering his freaking phone? Where could he have gone? Could something have taken him? Were there more than the one Ghoul we had thought there was?'_

    Jim and Dean agreed to split up to search the woods for Sammy and to call one another when they found him.

*~*~*

    So, now Dean is out looking for Sam.

_'He’s gone, can’t find him. What’s got him? Is it another Ghoul? Where is he? Is it really that hard to pick up a damn phone? Why can’t I find him? Is he hurt? How bad then? If Dad… Oh God... Dad… Dad is gonna kill me if I don’t find Sam soon, I have to find him and that’s fast. But what if I can’t …? No, I can! I’ll find Sammy, no matter what it takes.'_

    When Dean finally finds something, a clue to which way he could have gotten, something hits Dean hard in the back and he stumbles into a tree face first and drops his weapon and his flashlight with a grunt.

    When he tries to turn around and face his attacker, fumbling for his knife in his jacket, he only sees a fist up close and before he can do anything, he is laying on the ground, blinking up at the dark sky full of diamond-like shining stars, though some of the trees take some of the view.

    A dark shape and a big boot comes into view too; Dean isn’t fast enough to roll away and the boot clamps down on him, heavy and full of mud, leafs and filth. The wet mud under the down-pressing boot feels cold on his chest.

    Dean grabs the boot and pushes at it without result. Thoughts are rolling through his head now.

_'Who is this guy? Or **what** is he? Why the hell is he stepping on me? Has he gotten to Sam?'_

    “What are you doing here kid?” an angry, rough and sly voice slowly rumbles from the dark shape. His left foot is standing on the ground to Dean’s right side with his right foot pressing a bit harder down on Dean’s chest.

_'Is this a regular human? Maybe possessed? No, the flashlights flickering and the stink of rotten eggs would have shown. Maybe a Shapeshifter then? Or could he be a Ghoul? Like the one we just wasted? Or maybe he is actually just a human being?'_

    “What the hell man?! Do you greet everyone you meet like this or is this a special occasion?” Dean says sarcastically.

    The guy just repeats the question in the same dark tone he did before: “What are you doing here?”

    “Hunting… Now get off of me!” Dean replies and waits a bit for the man to withdraw his boot or attack him, but nothing’s happening.

    “Hunting you say? Aren’t you a bit young to be hunting…” the man asks with a bleak hummed giggle, “…alone, out in these woods?”

    There’s something in the guy’s voice Dean doesn’t like, and he wiggles in the mud, jerking himself around to slip out from under the boot holding him down, pressing him deeper into the cold and dirty, muddy ground.

    _'Alone? At least it seems he doesn’t know anything about Sammy.'_

    “Who said I was alone? Why are you still standing on me?! Get off of me!”

    “Don’t you know this is private property?” the guy says.

    “Then get off of me so I can get out of your hair” Dean says angrily. The guy still isn’t backing off. He just swiftly looks around, says ‘No’ and makes a sly, amused sound, making chills run down Dean’s spine. “What are you? What do you want?!”

    The man just continues his amused sound and ignores Dean’s questions. “How old are you, kid?”

    “As old as Yoda – what do you think? You can step off of me now.” He replies.

    “Yoda’s age, huh? You don’t look that old though.” he says in his sly way.

    “Well what can I say? I keep myself well in my age.”

    “Not too old. Not too young either…” The guy sounded pensive. ”Tell me your age.”

    “It’s none of your damn business!”

    “It’s okay, I’ll find out. You can tell me later”

    “There’s not gonna be a ‘later’, Asshole!”

    By now Dean is kicking, swearing and yelling at the boots owner, who comes a little bit closer into view above him, bending a bit downwards over his own knee, smirking but still looking pretty angry.

    Dean kicks at the guy, but can’t seem to get a solid kick in. He tries to hit the guys leg, to get him to break the pressure on him but the man doesn’t budge, he doesn’t flinch much (but still enough for Dean to notice) at Deans stone-fists. He can’t reach his knife, still in his inner pocket, but he can reach his machete, hanging in its holster in his belt on his left side.

    Dean grabs it and just when he is about to cut the man’s leg, the long crowbar in the man’s hands comes slamming down over Deans hand with the bended and rounded side of one of the ends of it, but the machete cuts through the man’s pants and leaves a bleeding cut in the shin before the crowbar hits him and the machete is in the air and lands a good six feet from his feet.

    Dean strangles his scream before it really gets past his lips. His hand isn’t broken, but it still hurts like hell. The guy didn’t hit as hard as he could have though. And he only hissed and cursed at Dean because of the cut on his shin, not doing much more about it.

    Not wasting the time whining about his hurting hand, Dean tries pushing the boot away again and for a second he thinks it has worked because the boot is lifting. But instantly, before Dean can do any more the boot clamps down hard on him again with just enough power to blow the oxygen out of his chest.

    The man says something Dean doesn’t quite get in his attempt at getting more air down his lunges, getting the boot off of him and getting up so he can kick this guy’s ass.

    He is grabbing the man’s leg with his right hand and the tip of the boot with the other.

    Then he feels a sudden pain in his right side, hearing a loud cracking noise, his ribs acing much worse than his hand. He can’t hold the tearing scream back in his throat and it is tearing out of his mouth and over his lips, just like the pain is tearing through his body. Dean feels another blow, this time to his left knee and he screams again, a shorter one this time but as loud as the last. “Son of a bitch!” he yells.

    He hears the man shout at him to ‘shut his fucking mouth and lay still’ and feels the sting when the guy pokes at his wounded and most certainly broken ribs before lifting the heavy boot from Dean’s chest. When the boot lifts it makes a wet sticky sound, leaving a wet and dirty footprint on his now soaked and cold shirts covering his chest.

    Dean instantly tries to stretch and move enough to get to his shotgun but the pain in his ribs and his knee stops him from getting that far.

    The man laughs a horrible calm laugh and Dean again stretches his left arm toward the gun just out of reach. The man walks around Dean. Dean can almost touch his gun. His wrist is pinned down by the right boot as the man bows down and picks up his shotgun. He stands up again; unloading the gun, drops the holsters on the ground. Shortly he mocks Dean with a smug smile, not saying anything, never leaving his wrist.

    Dean is trying to free his wrist, but it’s hard with all the pain in his chest and leg, and the weight on his wrist. The man twists his boot a bit on Dean’s wrist, turning a bit and kicks Dean hard in the side a couple of times, then steps away. Dean tries to get up, despite the hurt in his sides and knee, but he only gets to sitting up holding his chest in pain.

    Then the man picks up the machete. “Some hunt you’re on” he says and turns the blade in his hands, “That sure is a beautiful knife.”

    After that, he picks up a big bag, puts the machete, the gun and his own weapon in the bag, swings it on his back over his left shoulder and turns toward Dean, who is acing and shouting angrily at the stranger.

    The man roughly grabs the neck of Dean’s shirts and the collar of the jacket, and jolts him in another direction in which he suddenly - still lying on the ground - is being dragged. It’s painful and Dean is strangling a pained sound.

    “Let go of me, you bastard!” Dean jerks and twists - both in pain - in deception and in an attempt to free himself.

    The man just stops and turns, kicks a bit to Dean’s right side and moves on. Dean would curl in on it if it had been possible to him at the moment. “Son of a bitch!” he yells yet again through gritted teeth.

    He is dragged for a little while before surprisingly being hauled up to stand on his feet. But Dean couldn’t stand on his left leg and bucked down to his knees with a stifled scream as pain shot through his body when he hit the ground.

    The man was swearing at him and hauled him to his feet yet again. This time he dragged Deans left arm over his own right shoulder so Dean’s armpit was almost on it. It was a tight grip and the angle of Dean’s arm was awkward and painful.

    In front of the guy, the bag with the weapons dangled mockingly from his hands around Dean’s wrist. Whenever Dean tried to wring his whist free, the man just twisted his wrist a bit more in the wrong direction.

    He was dragged like that, a flood of swearing crossing his lips, halting, stumbling without a choice after this psycho-stranger, close against his body, ache streaming though him in waves of every movement.

    The man suddenly changes the direction away from the sort-of-path they’d been on up till now. They walked a while. The man didn’t seem to care much for Deans unstoppable swearing’s, insults, whines, shouting and scrambling.

    Dean reaches for his knife and holds it in a tight grip. “Let go of me or I swear this will hurt!”

    The man just snorts and keeps on going forward. Dean hisses at the pain of movement and reminds himself: ' _Hunters don’t kill humans’_

    “Suit yourself!” Dean says and right in the very moment Dean is about to stab the man a branch hits him in the face and knocks the knife out of his hand and it hits the ground with a very audible sound. “Shit!”

    Now the man stops abruptly. Making Dean grunt when he inevitably stumbles into him. The man turns them around and drops Dean to the ground. He walks over to the knife and picks it up to study it, then puts it in the bag with the other weapons.

    “If I didn’t know better I’d say you were trying to kill me.” Dean didn’t answer. “You’ll get punished for that.” He Walks over to Dean and squats besides him. “Do you have anything else in that jacket of yours I should know about?” and with that he feels every inch of the front of the jacket. When he doesn’t find anything other than the paper from some candy he lets fall to the ground and a candy bar, he stands up with the bar, opens it and takes a bite.

    “Hey! That’s mine!” Dean complaints, sitting on the ground holding his ribs and supports himself with a hand to the ground. The man just hums amused like it was a joke.

    The man grabs Dean’s shirts and Dean grabs his wrist, tries to wring it around. It almost worked but the guys other hand came flying to his jaw with a clenched fist so he let go and fell back on the ground.

    The chocolate bar was on the ground besides his face. ' _The guy must have dropped it when he hit me.'_

    Then the man again grabs the shirts and yanks Dean back up to the same position over his own shoulder as before and marches on, further into the forest with Dean in tow.

 *~*~*

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It would be awesome to get a couple of comments at my first chapter, I hope you guys found it interesting more or less. Tell me what you think, good or bad thoughts. And you can question me if there's something you don't quite get .. (;
> 
> I've got a question for you guyes too:  
> What did you like best about this 1st chapter ? ..


	2. The Opening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean has been taken to an opening in the woods where there is a Cabin and a car. He tries to run away from the stranger, but will he succeed? ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now I'm back with the 2. chapter of this story.. Hope you like it. (:

* * *

***~*~***

    They have been walking through the woods for some time now. Constantly changing directions. Dean noticed they were walking in circles and asked the guy if he even knew where they were going or if he was lost.

    The only replies he got from the man was either a “Shut up”, “That's none of your concern” or a twist in the wrist.

    They reach an opening with a tiny cabin and a dark, big, dented pickup truck. Dean really wants to kick the guy's ass for dragging him through the woods for so long when it really wasn't very far from where he was attacked.

    _‘If that freaking moron had just gone directly to this place it would have spared me much pain. My stupid leg is throbbing and the ribs don't exactly make it easy to breathe’_

    Dean knew it was absurd to think like that. Really he would have been spared a lot more pain if the guy hadn’t attacked him at all.

    As they get closer to the cabin, Dean tries to make out what the license plates of the truck say. But its license plates are too dirty to decipher.

    They reach the small porch and Dean is dropped to the hard wooden floor right in front of the door, he lands with a yelp flat on his stomach.

    The door opens up, the stranger steps inside and in a pace he stomps around in there, apparently collecting some of his stuff in the dark room, not even turning on the light.

    “Someone die in there or is it just naturally graveyard-in-a-box-like?”

    The man didn't answer; he just let out a short laughter and continued whatever he was doing, ignoring him otherwise.

    The maid must have been on vacation the last twenty years, ’cause the place was full of dead plants, furniture covered in blankets, spider webs and dust everywhere. There were a couple of covers on the floor too. The only things not covered or dusty all over were a bed, a chair and a small dining table. The guy even left a trail of footprints upon another trail of footprints where he paced back and forth.

    Dean tried achingly to sit up and get up and away. But there was not much of a chance for him to get very far, he couldn’t stand on his leg and he was in such pain it was hard not to let the sound of partly strangled pain run past his lips to alert the guy responsible for his condition.

    It was hard enough just to roll onto his back, but he succeeded. Panting he turned his head towards the guy, still pacing around in the little cabin. He stopped at a cupboard with dusty glass doors. He took a little bottle from it and placed it on a nearby table he passed to get into another room, presumably the bathroom.

    It took Dean a lot of effort, but he got in close to the outside wall of the cabin and somehow got to sit upright, leaning against it. His chest and knee still hurts like hell and he’s still panting.

    Dean takes a very deep breath. He puts his right foot against the nearest one of the four posts that holds the roof, leans against the wall while pushing himself upwards by his hands, moving them as he gets further up the wall, stretching his good leg as far as he can.

    When he gets up, Dean is surprised that this actually worked and lets out the breath he unconsciously was holding. But when he tries standing on his left leg he almost collapses to the ground again, the only thing preventing that fall is the wall. But he knows it was too loud and so he holds his breath in hope of the stranger not noticing.

    “Don’t you try to sneak away from me!” the guy bellowed from inside the cabin, his stomping footsteps loud in this silent space.

    Dean lost his breath and turned to his right to stumble forward as fast as possible. But with the pain in his chests side, the left leg not cooperating and this psychopath after him, he would not get very far. And he didn’t.

    When the guy was outside of the cabins doorway, he took a quick look from the left side to the right side where he saw Dean crawling away up against the wall. The second he saw Dean he yelled: “You stay here!” stomped loudly towards him, grabbed the collar of his muddy jacket, jolted him backwards and let him fall hard onto the wooden floor once again, making Dean puffs a pained cry as he hit the ground.

    “Just where do you think you are going?!” the man hisses in a low, dark voice. “You. Are not. Going. Any-. Where!” he states with a hard kick in every pause.

    Abruptly he stops kicking. And they both freeze. There’s a sound. It’s coming from the right pocket of Dean’s pants. It’s his cellphone ringing.

    Dean don’t know if he should be relieved that Jim has found Sammy - if it was him calling at all – or terrified that his possibly last lifeline was about to be taken from him.

    Dean stares wide-eyed at the stranger towering above him. The guy is staring right back at Dean and for a long second, time stands still in this very tense moment.

    Neither of them has moved in a handful of seconds now, still staring at each other, the cellphone still ringing in the background.

    Dean hasn’t dared to move one bit since their eyes met. But right the second the man moves the slightest, Dean is fumbling for his phone in a hurry, even though every move hurts.

    The stranger isn’t far behind. He instantly straddles him. In the exact moment he sits down, Dean pulls the phone up from his pocket, lifting it towards his face.

    The man grabs Dean’s wrist and pulls at it, Dean pulls it back and push the button to take the call and the phones sound stops. Dean is in a panic and he yells into the phone that he’s in trouble and babbles on about what he can see in the aria – the cabin, a black pickup truck and the man on top of him.

    While he yells into the phone he is clinging to it pulling it to his face. He is so pumped with adrenaline that he doesn’t feel the pain in his body till the man on top of him shouts “Shut up you little brad!” and lets the guys fist collide with Deans ribs.

    Dean stifles his scream, he lets go of the phone that is instantly turned off, and just holds his chest in pain.

    The man takes out the battery and throws both items on the ground beside Dean’s head, making him turn away and close his eyes. It’s only a blink and Dean is yet again staring into the strangers face, but so close that he can actually see his face more or less clearly for the first time tonight. He can see the color of his eyes. It’s a light brown that almost matches the color of his brows and short hair.

    He could easily just be a regular guy. His face is tired and he knows that this guy has seen some shit over the years. Other than that he just looks like a regular, tired and angry guy. But still there is something about him that bothers Dean.

    “Never do that again kid, is that understood?!” the guy yells, grabbing Deans shoulders, lifting him up a bit and then smashes him down to the floor again. He does this three more times, then asks again: “Do you understand?!” and with a smile he doesn’t wait for an answer and lets his fist collide with Dean’s face.

    Dean knows what it is about this guy now: he enjoys this; hurting him.

    He hits him again and shouts: “Are we clear?!”

    Dean’s head is hurting now too, the only thing he can do to make it stop is replying with the right answer.

    “Let me go you sick son of a bitch!” The fist hits his face again. _‘Well it wasn’t that one…’_ Dean thinks bitterly to himself. “Stop hitting me, you bas…” he’s interrupted by another fist colliding with his face.

    “I said: Are we clear?!” the man shouts and lifts Dean’s upper body up by his fists in Dean’s dirty shirt.

    “Yeah!”

    “Are we clear?!” He hits Dean again.

    “Jesus, yes! Okey?! Yes!” Dean yell’s back to his face. "Are you deaf too, you stupid...?!"

    He hits him once more. “ _’Yes’_ what, kid?” The guy is actually waiting for an answer.

    “I get it, okay?! I understand” the left fist hits him again and the man lets go of the shirt and lets Dean fall back onto the wooden floor. “Son of a bitch! Would you st…” his ribs get another blow. Dean strangles another scream, holds his ribs and groans of the never-ending wave of pain.

    The stranger gets up and off of him and strides into the cabin again. Dean lets out a sigh. Moments later the guy is back, this time with the little bottle from the cabinet and a cloth in his hands.

    “What is that?” Dean asks. The guy pours some of the bottle's contents over the cloth. Wide eyed he asks again: “What is that?!” Dean has already guessed what it is. “Keep that the hell away from me!”

    The guy simply puts the bottle down, a few feet away from him and squats beside Dean’s head. “You have ruined my routine with that stupid phone call, now I have to speed things up before your friend gets here”

    “Wait, this is a routine of yours? That’s sick man!” the guy is looking pissed but still smiles “What ‘things’ are you gonna speed up?” he hums a dark laughter. “You’re one fucked up creepy freak, you know that? – No, don’t!” the guy tries to put the cloth over Deans mouth, but Dean grabs his wrist and pushes it away.

    “Lie still you little maggot!” he tries again but Dean grabs both the wrist and the cloth and try to rip it out of his hand. “You are a fiery one, aren’t you?” He places a knee on Dean’s left upper arm and rips the cloth out of Dean’s grip. “Lie still!”

    “No, sick fuck! Get away from me! Leave me alone!” he tugs on his arm to get out from under the guys knee.

    “Hmm. I could do that… at least for a short moment” he says and gets up and walks over to the truck. He places the cloth on the edge of the side of the pickup truck. He stopped there and just stared at Dean. Dean is gaping at the guy. _‘What the hell?’_

    Dean doesn’t like this one bit. This asshole obviously knows what he is doing. And the way he stares… Those creepy, light, cold eyes and his stupid smug smile on his face… This bastard knows Dean won’t get far if he try to escape. He is just waiting for him to do so. Dean knows that. But he has to at least try. He has to.

    So he tries. He pushes himself to sit upright. Then the man moves, he is walking towards him. “No, no you stay the hell away from me!”

    “Relax! I’m only gonna grab some stuff.” He says and walks past Dean and inside the cabin as if this was a totally normal every-day thing.

    _‘The hell?’_ Dean doesn’t get this guy. Crazy dude beats him up and drags him to this place in big circles around the area in a hurry, only to take his sweet time packing? What the hell? He can’t help but wonder: _‘What the hell is going on?’_ But there isn’t time for that.

    He drags himself back to the wall to get up by doing it all over again. Foot at post, arms and back against the wall, pushing up. When Dean once again is standing panting at the wall, he takes a deep silent breath and continues stubbornly.

    He turns and stumbles along the wall till he reaches the end of it and freezes at the sound of the man’s voice.

    “You got further than I expected! Fine, now get back over here!” the guy began to walk again. He went to his car to unload some of his stuff into the car.

    Dean knew he didn’t have much time to run off. So he let go of the cabins wall and almost fell. The only thing stopping that was the post he fell into.

    The guy slammed the door shut. Dean turned his face in his direction. Fear ran through him and he let go of the pole and hobbled hurriedly towards the dark forest headed for the path they had come from.

    The guy was running now, Dean could hear it. Before he knew it the guy brakes in front of him and Dean runs directly into him.

    Dean almost collapses on the ground, but the guy catch him before he gets to fall down. Dean is just hanging in the man’s strong grip in Deans clothes and left arm till he is being hauled up to his feet and the man shifts, swings Deans right arm over his shoulder and holds him tight around the waist.

    Dean is protesting, but it doesn’t help him. He is hastily being half-guided and half-dragged towards the truck.

    He yells at the man to let him go hit him as hard as he can, he is fighting to free himself of the man’s grasp, but gets a blow to the ribs. He tries to make himself heavy and to fall to the ground on purpose, but it doesn’t work, the man just tightens his grip on him and lifts him up a bit in every step closer to the truck.

    When they get to the back of the car Dean is half picked up and is thrown onto the back of the truck where some other stuff is lying around. Dean groans and hisses in pain as he lands on his stomach and turns to his back.

    The guy jumps up onto the trucks floor and straddles him. He reaches back for the cloth, still lying on the edge of the trucks rear's side.

    “Get off of me you sick fuck!” Dean shouts and hits the man in the stomach till he has punched the air out of him and he folds down over Dean. He pushes him off of him onto his back and tries to get up himself. But the guy isn’t done yet and kicks Dean in the face so he falls back down again.

    The guy grabs the cloth and the bottle again. Dean didn’t see him bring the bottle here, it must have been when he was loading the truck and Dean was on the run.

    “Oh, no you don’t” Dean grabs his leg and try to distract him, but he kicks back to get Dean to release his leg and he kicks Dean hard on his ribs. Dean cry’s out loud and falls back, hugging himself for the hurt to stop.

    The guy has poured more from the bottle onto the cloth and is back up again. Once again he straddles Dean, this time he pinned his arms down with his knees.

    There aren’t a lot Dean can do. Since none of the other stuff works he tries to kick him off, but suddenly he can’t… his foot is stuck. There is some rope and a big wooden-box at his feet and his foot is all tangles up in it and he can’t use the other leg.

    Dean twists and bucks but that damn bastard isn’t budging. He only gets closer, leaning down towards Dean. He is pinning Dean’s shoulders down with his hands and slowly moves his hands to Dean’s chest, still holding the cloth in his right hand.

    “Aw, have you run out of ideas?” He says with false pity in his voice. Dean stares angrily at him but that soon changes when the guy puts pressure on his left hand to pin Dean down by the chest and slides the cloth up his neck, to his jaw, to his mouth.

    Deans Eyes widen and he shouts: “No! Dude! Don’t you dare! Get that thing aw…” Dean turns his head away from the cloth and sputters as the cloth covers his lips. “…away… stop! Stop it! No!”

    But the guy places the cloth over most of the lower half of his face and holds it in a firm, bruising grip on his jaw.

    Dean can’t fight it. He can’t hold his breath, he can’t shake the guys hand off his face and he can’t kick him away or hit him. Dean can only try, and he does, but it doesn’t make much of a difference.

    He stares furiously and a bit frightened at the guy holding him down. When he can’t hold his breath anymore he is forced to breathe through the cloth and soon he is dizzy and sluggish in perception. The cloth is gone before he can succumb to unconsciousness. The guy drags him a little further up the trucks floor and steps out of sight.

    The truck tilts a bit at the movement, his legs are being shoved further in and the guy closes the rear gate. A car door is being opened and slammed shut and a black, hard, foldable cover is being clamped on the top of the trucks rears side and folded out to the middle of it over Dean.

    “No… stopit sonofabitch… lemme go…” Dean murmurs exhausted. The man ties and fastens his left wrist to some kind of hook in the upper corner of the trucks floor. “You freaki…” his insults is being stifled by the cloth yet again and this time it isn’t removed till he is fully unconscious, his mind all wrapped up in a dark, black blanket of nothingness. The feel of losing control is unwelcome and for every second that passes he feels how he glides further into the fuzzy blanket of unconsciousness.

***~*~***

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what ya' think? .. still wanna read more? ..  
> You're welcome to leave a comment if you feel like saying anything or something .. 
> 
> What do you think about the bad guy so far ? ..


	3. Credit Cards

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***~*~***

     It’s dark and cold. Quiet too. The only sound around him being a low rumble. Dean yawns. His jaw feels sore. Or rather his whole face feels sore. He tries sleepily to open his eyes, but at first he can’t figure out if it is just dark where he is or if he simply hadn’t opened his eyes yet. His eyelids felt so heavy. Even though he thought he was slowly blinking his eyes open, he still couldn’t see anything.

    “Orgh” Dean felt sore in his back. He lied still for another minute, blinking sleepily, trying to wake up. He was lying on something hard and flat, though there were a few elongated bumps of some kind. Like some kind of slightly bulged lines. Whatever he was lying on, it was rocking him a bit.

_‘What am I lying on? Certainly not a bed. Where am I?’_

    It took a few moments before he remembered. “Holy crap!” he exclaimed low in voice, with widened eyes in the dark.

    Dean was about to put both his hands onto the dark lid above him when he felt the restraints of his left hand. “The hell?” He tugged on it a bit, feeling the rope tighten a bit more around his wrist “Oh, come on!” The rope felt like it was about as thick as four pencils or two or three inches thick, and it itched around his wrist.

    He tried to turn towards it but stopped abruptly and laid back down again, hugging himself with one arm because of the ache in his side.

    He’d almost forgotten about the ribs and his leg. Dean tried to bend his knee a couple of times; it still ached, not as much as the ribs but something in it still hurt. Like a really small knife inside the knee.

    Dean gently stretched it out again and let his head fall back onto the floor of the truck. “Just great” he sighed to himself.

     Suddenly he hears a honk and a whizzing sound from another car. As it passes by, the light from the vehicle enters through a crack by the edge of the lid. For a short moment he can see a bit of where he is. But the light disappears again and everything is dark.

    Dean stared blindly onto the spot the light had come from. He crept towards it as gently as he could until one of his feet stopped him. He was still entangled in the rope from the box in his foot end. He stared for a second at the direction of his feet. Then Dean looked from his feet back to the other spot. He could actually see the slim crack by the lid. The lid seemed to be a bit uneven.

    Suddenly the rumbling car slowed down and stopped. Dean froze for a second or two, waiting to hear the car doors open and slam shut. Nothing happened. Dean frowned. Then his eye caught something by the crack. He looked at the redly sheen peeking through it. Shortly after the sheen turned green and the truck sat in motion again.

    Relieved he let out the breath he apparently was holding. “I need to get out of here” He sighed and stretched his right arm very gently towards the crack; he didn’t want to feel more pain in his ribs than he already did.

    Dean pushed tentatively at the lid to see how much it would give in. Sadly it wasn’t much at all. Not even when he pushed real hard, ignoring the pain as much he could but then collapsing hissing through his clenched teeth, hugging himself in waiting for it to stop hurting as much.

    It wasn’t easy to do with only one arm. Not that it would have given that much more in if he had had both arms free, but it would have been preferable anyways.

    “Shit, why didn’t I think of it sooner?” Dean hurriedly tried to find his wallet in his pants’ back pocket. “Argh!” The motion sent a shooting pain through him again.

    He needed to move slower, gentler. But at the same time he wanted to rush things ‘cause he had to get out of this mess soon and get back to Jim and Sam.

    _‘He should have been found by now. Right? It must have been Jim that called. He must have found Sammy. Why else call? Unless… what if he called to say he couldn’t find Sam? Or what if he found him but he was hurt? What if it wasn’t Jim calling at all?’_ The worried thoughts wouldn’t stop. _‘Who was it then? …Well it must have been the weirdest call they ever made, I bet they didn’t expect **that** answer.’_ He joked bitterly to himself.

    The mere thought of Sam getting hurt was unbearable. He was fine. He had to be, because Dean couldn’t think of him in any other way. It would have been a lot worse than any physical pain.

    Dean shook his head once. He couldn’t think of that right now. He had to figure out a way to get out of this shit so he could get back to them and see for himself shat Sammy was okay.

    Finally he got it out from under him; His wallet! Luckily the stupid asshole hadn’t searched through Dean’s pants, so he still got that… and one more thing.

    Dean then put the wallet on his chest and snuck his hand deep down his right front pocket. When he got it up he opened a lid with a “clink”. Shortly after he lay with his lit lighter in hand, able to see everything in the cramped space.

    He could see how tangled up his right foot were, it was a mess. So was he, he was hurt and most of his cloths were splattered with mud, mostly dried. His hand wasn’t clean either and he could only wonder what his face looked like.

    With a grimace Dean stretched the hand with the lighter to take a look at the other hand. It was dirty too. He turned the hand a bit to see more of the wrist. It was reddish and sore, it didn’t bleed though. The rope was tight but kind of fluffy looking with the rope splinters all over.

    “Maybe I won’t need the credit card anyway. If I can just…” Dean stretched as far as he could with the hurt in his ribs. It wasn’t enough though. So he crept as far as his stuck foot would let him up towards his bound hand. Now he could reach.

    He clenched his left fist and then put the lighters flame under the rope between the little hook it was bound to and his hand. Dean smiled. His wrist would soon be free and he could figure a way out of this box.

    The rope wouldn’t catch on fire. It was only the protruding rope splinters that were burned away. It smelled. But Dean was holding the lighter under it anyway. He also scorched the small hairs on the back of his bound hand. Got a bit of his hand burned too.

    Suddenly Dean’s whole body hit the lid above him and he fell back onto the hard floor of the truck. The lighter was knocked out of his hand and everything turned dark again. “Son of a bitch!” he cried through clenched teeth and held himself to the chest. The truck must have flown over a speed bump.

    “Crap.” He sighed and fumbled with his hand over the floor to find the lighter again. It wasn’t possible. He couldn’t find it in the dark. “Guess that means plan B” He found his wallet beside him, open. He grabbed it and held on to it when the vehicle made a sharp turn to the right and Dean was sliding to his left. The light from some streetlamps glowed in through the crack by the lid.

    _‘We must be driving through some city’_ he thought. It gave him an idea. Dean opened his wallet and took one of the seven cards from it. “I hope this will work” and with that he shoved the card out through the slim crack.

    _‘If I can’t get out right away, then maybe they will have a clue to wherever the guy is taking me. I can only hope someone will find the cards, maybe use them, but right now it’s the best I’ve got... Beats breadcrumbs’_

    Dean took another card from the wallet. “Well, there’s no reason to just wait around and do nothing. Might as well get ‘Plan B’ started.” Dean yet again stretched his arm up to the other wrist. He started cutting the rope with the card.

    After some time he sighed and bit his lip; _‘this is gonna take a long time.’_

    Dean looked shortly at the spot where he could sometimes see the crack. It was dark again; no streetlamps to shine in through the crack anymore. They must have passed through the city now.

    The truck slowed a bit down again. Dean cut faster with the card on the rope. He wanted to be free of the fucking rope when the bastard opened the lid.

    Again nothing happened; except that the truck turned left and speeded up. Dean put the card from his hand in his mouth and dug a new one up from the wallet and shoved it through the crack.

    He put the wallet back down beside him, took the card from his mouth and began once again to cut the rope around his wrist. Sometimes the card hit his bound hand. It didn’t hurt but he could feel the side of the credit card become sanded sharper by cutting the rope.

    “This is the freaking worst night… eh… in a long time” Dean hissed “Stupid freaking rope!” They stopped again. Dean looked to the crack; another red light. When the truck started moving again, Dean put the card in his mouth, took yet another card and threw that one out through the crack too. Then he started on the rope again.

***~*~***

    Streetlamps light came through the crack once again. New city. After two turns Dean could hear some music. It got louder as they came closer to its source.

    When the truck stopped and the engine was turned off the music was almost deafening, but Dean could still hear the door get slammed and the man who took him ask; “Where’s Leo?” It sounded like the guy he’d asked was on something when he answered something Dean didn’t get.

    He heard the man again: “Okay, I’ll be back in a minute.” There was a sound on the top of the lid. “Don’t touch my truck!”

    Dean waited for a moment. He couldn’t hear much other that the music and some distant voices and laughter.

    He decided to take a chance and started yelling. “HELP! HEY! SOMEBODY HELP ME! I’M IN HERE! HELLO? ANYONE OUT THERE?!” it seemed to work. Soon he herd some people come closer, talking: ”Did you guys hear that?”, “Yeah, where did it come from?”

    “OVER HERE! THE FUCKING PICKUP TRUCK! GET ME OUTTA HERE!”

    ”The truck? Dude, what the fuck?”

    “CAN’T YOU HEAR ME? HELLO?” Dean yelled and hammered at the lid ignoring the hurt. “HELP ME OUT!”

    There was someone who knocked twice on the top of the lid, replying: “HELLO? Who is it?” and some others started laughing.

    “WHO DO YOU THINK DICKBAG?! SANTACLAUSE! AND IF YOU DON’T LET ME OUT OF HERE I’M GONNA SHOVE YOUR PRESSENTS SO FAR UP YOUR CAKEHOLE AT CHRISTMASS THAT YOU CAN’T SIT FOR A YEAR!”

    Some laughed even harder but it worked. Dean could hear the moron fumbling with something at the corner of the lid.

    “HEY! I TOLD YOU NOT TO TUCH MY TRUCK!” The man shouted.

    ‘Shit, he’s back! He really meant a minute’ Dean thought.

    “Uh, dude, I think it’s pretty illegal to keep someone in the trunk of your car” Dean heard how the poor guy was slammed against the side of the truck.

    “Are you threatening me, you little piece of shit?!” the man growled angrily. “You want to get in there to?!”

    “N- No, dude! I- I- I’m sorry!” the dude stammered back.

    Dean cut in: “YOU LET HIM GO, DOUCHEBAG! WHEN I GET OUT OF HERE I’M GONNA KICK YOUR SORRY ASS BACK TO HELL WHERE IT BELONGS!”

    “Shut up in there! I’m gonna deal with you later! And you, you mind your own business!” The Truck tilted for a moment as the ’dude’ was slammed down on top of the lid. “You get it?!”

    Dean could feel every move of the truck. He could hear how the man started hitting the dude who pleaded for him to not hurt him.

    “STOP IT! LET HIM GO!” Dean shouted. He did stop. Outside there was suddenly quiet except for the still loud music.

    “Now, if any of you talk to the police about this, I’m gonna find you, and it’ll be you who lies in there!” the man threatened with his rough and sly voice. Then the truck tilted a bit at the loss of weight on top of it. “You girls go have some fun now”

    There was this sliding noise against the side and a girl whined. The dude must have slid down the trucks side to the ground. “Ouch! Rachel don’t… Thanks”

    The truck door was opened and slammed shut.

    _‘It’s my fault he got in trouble’_ Dean felt sorry for him. He could have kicked himself for involving an innocent person, but he knew he’d had to try. “I’m sorry dude! I shouldn’t have dragged you into this”

    “Santa? I’m sorry too” the dude replied. Dean smiled shortly at that. But he hadn’t given him a name so what else could the dude call him?

    Then the engine started again. Dean put the credit card in his mouth once again, took a card from the wallet and pushed it out through the slim crack.

    It was the last card in the wallet. Now the only credit card he got left was the one he used to cut the rope with.

    A second later the truck sat in motion. Dean heard the dude Say: “John Bonham? That must be his name…” then the voice got too far away for him to hear anymore.

***~*~***

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soo, what ya' think about the credit cards-thing ? .. good idea or bad ? .. Awesome or stupid ? ..


	4. Another Stop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another stop is made and finally the lid is taken off for the first time in hours...

* * *

***~*~***

    They were on the road again. The guy behind the wheel must have been really pissed off, ‘cause by the feels off the way he was driving now, he couldn’t be less. His driving was seriously crappy.

    He was driving a lot faster than he’d done before, even throughout the city they’d just been in. When they seemingly got out of town, whenever the car turned to either side, he didn’t slow it down anymore. The wheels screamed underneath the car every time and Dean was trashed around from side to side. The rope around his wrist scratching and scraping against his skin as it grew tighter around it.

    The ropes around his wrist and his tangled up foot restrained him a bit but it didn’t prevent the ache in his leg and ribs, and it didn’t prevent the other stuff from the trucks floor - Some trash, some bits of wood and some old dry leafs - from hitting him whenever the car turned. At one point he thinks his lighter collided with him too. And his wrist grew sorer every time the cars movement trashed him to one side or the other, ‘cause the rope tore and skinned at his skin.

    Whenever the car would turn, Dean would hold his right arm close to his side to prevent it from getting more hurt than it already was. That meant he had to stop cutting the rope sometimes. And every time the car had turned he had to creep towards his tied up wrist to be able to get back to work on the rope.

    Dean could hear the rope squeak; it was working, the rope was braking, thread by thread. Dean keenly kept going at it with the card, even faster than before in renewed hope.

    Finally he cut through the first twisted wire of the rope; it sprung up and immediately Dean could feel the give in its hold on him even though it still wasn’t fully broken and still held his wrist in place. The give in itself was a relive.

    “Ha!” He smiled in the dark. But he wasn’t done yet; there still were the last two layers of twisted rope. The credit card was sharper by now and had cut multiple times into his hand and wrist. He could feel little drops drip down his wrist. Not too much though. He knew it wasn’t gonna bleed him out.

    The man seemed to keep up the bad driving. Still driving too fast the guy suddenly turned and abruptly stepped on the breaks. The wheels screamed loudly as the car stopped sliding. At that moment, Dean was kind of happy that his right foot was still stuck; if it hadn’t been stuck and all tangled up in rope, he definitely would have hit the end wall of the pickup truck. Now his foot hurt a bit and the rope around it had tightened so much the blood couldn’t all get through to it but at least he didn’t smack his face right into that wall. The tree back in the forest had been more than enough to be smacked into with the face first.

    Dean waited a moment for the pain in his ribs to simmer down a little, every turn that trashed him around got his nerves and muscles to twist, stretch and hurt with every movement.

    The truck was turned off and became quiet. Dean listened carefully for a second. He could hear birds calling.

    _‘Birds? Is it morning? If the birds are awake it must be. What time is it? How long have I been in this Piece of junk?’_

    But that didn’t matter right now; it wouldn’t do anything to help him. So he kept cutting in the rope with his credit card and pushed the thoughts aside.

    Shortly after a car door was opened and he could hear the grumpy guy mumble something and slam the door shut before he started tampering with something on the top of the lids corner, the one closest to the driver’s seat.

    It wasn’t long before he went on to the next corner. The guy kept on mumbling as he did so. Grumpy mumbo-jumbo passing his lips.

    Dean cut into the rope as fast as he could; he needed to be done with this so he could kick the guys’ ass and get back. Or so he at least could get a few good punches in; the muscles and nerves around his ribs that were connected to his right arm’s nerves and muscles did cut of some of his mobility and restrained him a bit. It still hurt a bit as he cut the rope, but he had crawled as close as he could get so it didn’t hurt as bad as it could have.

    The man worked the third corner and started on the last above Dean’s hand. He mumbled: “Goddamned kid…” then he was at the rears end of the truck as he folded up the left side of the lid so he could see Deans tangled up foot and some of his body. “You just had to do that didn’t you?! Just had to cry for help like a little baby, didn’t you?!” he said angrily and grabbed the bottom of the lid.

    The lightly dimmed morning-light poured in as he folded the one side of the lid, it wasn’t really blinding, but Dean had been in this dark box with no light for long enough to make him squint at the light and he turned his face away from it as his eyes readjusted to the new, though little, amount of light. As they did, he kept cutting the rope.

    As the man talked he lifted the lid off and placed it on its long side on the ground by the truck. When the lid was removed from above Dean, the lightly dimmed blue sky was revealed. Not too dark and not quite lighted up. The crowns of some trees almost framed the piece of sky he could see and a couple of small birds flew across the sky.

    When the man popped up into sight he just stood there, abruptly staring at Dean and the tied wrist. And Dean stared right back at him; once again frozen in his actions when their eyes met.

    The man had apparently taken off the jacket he’d worn last Dean saw him. He’d probably taken it off inside the car if it was to warm inside to ware one. It was cold more or less, where Dean was lying.

    Dead silence filled the air between them as they just stared at each other. Everything just stopped in Dean’s mind for a moment. He didn’t dare to move a muscle; he just held his breath, stared up at the man and waited for his next move.

    Then the man blinked twice and his face turned angry in a second. He didn’t say anything at first, just stomped over to the corner of Dean’s bound hand beside the car and stopped, looking at Dean with those angry, creepy light brown eyes.

    “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asked in a low voice and reached a hand down towards Dean’s free wrist. Dean immediately reacted and cut his arm with the card in his hand to defend himself. The guy let out a small cry in surprise and withdrew his hand. He looked at his cut, then back at Dean and panted with rage. Then he said in an anger-dripping, low voice: “Now look what you did! What have you got there kid? Huh? You made yourself a little weapon there, did you? Well, you are gonna pay for that.”

    Dean looks back at him with defiance. “Let me go and it won’t happen again.” He threatens.

    The guy just laughed at that. “You’re bound to my car and you can’t do anything besides giving me small scratches, yet you still think yourself to be a threat to me? Haha, uh, that’s just hilarious! That’s a first… You are not quite like the others, are you?” The man’s eyes got a strange creepy look that made chills run down Dean’s spine, but he didn’t move, he didn’t look away and he didn’t change his expression. The man dried off that big ugly smile of his, and said: ”Now Give me that thing you’ve got there” and reached his arm back down to get it.

    Dean first withdrew his arm so he couldn’t reach. When the man grabbed the top of the sleeve of Dean’s jacket though, he tried cutting him again, this time by his wrist and he let go of Dean again.

    Shortly after though, the man leaned his upper body over Dean and stretched both arms to get the card. His one arm grabbed the sleeve again and dragged it closer to him and tried to get a hold on Dean’s wrist with the other. “Give it!” he said. Dean swung the arm away every time he tried to catch it. It stung in his ribs, but he needed that card.

    The man readjusted his hold on his sleeve further down the upper arm to minimize Dean’s mobility. Dean thinks of this as his last chance and swings the card past the man’s arm and let it hit the bottom of his neck, between neck and shoulder, and as it sinks into the flesh, he drags it downwards, leaving a more or less deep cut.

    A growl leaves the man’s mouth and he grabs Dean’s wrist angrily and rips the card out of his hand. Now Dean can feel that the card also had cut a bit in that hand, just by the way he had held it in it.

    “You devilish little brad! You could have killed me, fucker!” The man growled.

    “Yeah, wouldn’t that be something?”

    “Fucking devious little smug, you would like that, wouldn’t you?”

    “Can’t say I’d miss ya’! Mmh” Dean struggled to get his wrist free again. The man just tightened his grip and leaned in closer to Dean’s face. “You’re not gonna kiss me now, are you? Cause that-”

    “Just like _nobody_ will miss you…” he says in a low calm voice with a smile on his lips. Dean was still for a second but kept on struggling. He wouldn’t give the guy the pleasure of messing with his head. Of course he wouldn’t be missed; he wouldn’t be gone. He just needed to get back first though.

    “If you wanted to kill me, you’d have done it by now.”

    “Who says anything about killing you? I only said they wouldn’t miss you. Does it matter if they think you’re dead?” Dean didn’t say anything to that. “Now, let me repay you your generous body-decoration of cuts…” The guy said and held the card to Dean’s hand first and cut, then with one hand pushed the jacket and the open shirt above his t-shirt aside and slid it down the upper arm.

    Dean clenched his jaw and strangled every noise that tried to leave his throat as he was carved in. He tried to get free of the grasp and hit the guy in the face, but he didn’t release him so he couldn’t do it.

    The man tugged at Deans left sleeve and cut his arm just below the bound wrist. “You sure have been affective with this I see. The rope is damaged. And you’ve even cut in yourself too.” he hummed a bit amused at the last part.

    “Release me! Now!” Dean demanded.

    He just chuckled back at him. “Why? We haven’t even gotten to know each other yet!” he said in a false sad tone.

    “What, you’ve run all out of friends and needs a new one? Is that it?! I will not be your friend, you crazy fuck!”

    “No, no, I have plenty already. And you’re not gonna be my friend, but you are rather amusing though.”

    “Fuck you!”

    The man just chuckled amused again. “How old are you?” Dean didn’t answer. “What is your age?” he asked and put the card to the bottom of Dean’s neck between neck and shoulder like the deepest cut Dean gave him. He didn’t wait for an answer and just cut down into the skin.

    “Agh! Fifteen, you son of a bitch, Fifteen!” Dean wasn’t gonna risk this idiot cutting too deep and let him bleed him out, that wouldn’t do him any good so he answered the man. “I’m fifteen!”

    “Good. Now we’re at it, why don’t you tell me your name then?”

    “Why don’t you go screw your friends instead?”

    “Let’s try again…” he put the card back to the newest cut “Why don’t you tell me your name?”

    “Why don’t you just look for yourself?” Dean spat at him with clenched teeth.

    The man frowned and took a closer look at the credit card. As he withdrew it from Dean’s cut, Dean relaxed a bit in the jaw. The man slid his thumb over the card to remove some of the blood “Aha. So, you say you’re fifteen young Mr. Ted… Nutgent?”

     _'Oh so it's **that** card'_ Dean thought to himself. “It’s Nugent! Idiot” the man seemed amused about it.

    “Well, you aren’t gonna need this anymore, Teddy bear” he exclaimed in a mocking voice and threw it away.

    “Hey!”

    “Shut it Ted!” with that he let go of Dean and went back into the front of the car.

    Dean yells to him: “Who are _**you**_ then? And what do you want with me?” Dean hears the car door close and the sound of steps from the man coming back. When he sees the man again, he is putting something down in his right pocket. “What is that?”

    “Do you ever just shut up Teddy?”

    “Just answer the questions!”

    “You’ll find out soon enough, don’t worry about it”

    “What do you want from me? Who are you?”

    The guy sent him a look that very clearly told him to forget it and shut up.

    He opens the rear gate and jumps up on the trucks floor. “Well, Teddy. Now, you attracted a lot of unwanted attention back in that town with those other kids…”

    “Yeah, that attention was pretty damn wanted asshole. You can’t just abduct people like this! Who does that?!”

    “Shut up! I can do as I like. Besides, you’re not a part of ‘people’ anymore. At least you won’t be when I’m done with you.” He says.

    “What the Hell does that mean?! What…?” The man sits down astride Dean. “No! You get off of me, scumbag!”

    “What is it with you and those words? And all these bags? Heh”

    “What, you’d rather be a purse? Would you just freaking remove yourself?!”

    “Funny. Now that was a bit better without the insulting words, don’t you think?”

    “Dumbass… - Ugh!” A fist collides with Dean’s face so his head turns to the side. “You dick!” another fist collides.

    “You are ruining it for yourself. Anyways, I actually think I owe you a small beating for attracting so many nosy faces.”

    “Wha-?” he gets a fist in the face again. And then one more, and one more and then another one. The man keeps hitting him and does not seem to want to give him a brake.

    Dean puts his hand in front of his face to prevent the fists from colliding with his sore face, but his hand is smacked away and the fists comes flying. He tries again and grabs the man’s sleeve to stop just one of his arms, but he gets hit with the other and the guy just takes a hold on the wrist and presses it to the cars floor and keeps on hitting him in the face with the other. Dean isn’t saying anything; he withholds as many sounds as he can. He just closes his eyes tight, closes his mouth and takes what he gets.

    After a little while, the man sits up. “Well, you can take a beating. I’ll give you that kid” He says when he’s done rearranging his face. “Good, now we only need to get one thing over with, and then we can get back on the road.”

    “I’m not going with you” Dean says a bit sluggishly. His head hurts unbelievably. He slowly opens his eyes and everything seems to be swirling around for a long moment. _‘Crap, my whole face feels like one giant bruise’_ He closes his eyes tight and opens them up wide and does this a few more times. _‘If the goddamn world would just stop spinning around!’_

    The guy let go of his wrist and got up. “Yes, you are. Now let’s get done with it.”

    Dean gently held the hand up to his head. It was so sore, the slightest touch made him wanna wince, but even _that_ hurt a bit. He could feel blood everywhere on his face. Bruises and cracks in the skin oozing blood. Red wet liquid covering his face.

***~*~***

* * *


	5. The Realization

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is pretty battered, but only just now he realizes what is about to happen...

* * *

***~*~***

    Dean just lay there on his back for a moment. His body felt heavy and limp and he couldn’t think much further than ‘Ouch’ at this point. He tried to think on anything besides the hurt, but he couldn’t. Not at the moment.

    Most of his body hurt and now his head wasn’t making it easy to ignore either. He didn’t want to think too much about what he was feeling though – that wouldn’t make it go away anyway.

    He could feel the warm blood coating his sore bruised face. When some of it got in his eyes he had to close them. He blinked, but every time he opened them up, they got filled with more of his own blood.

    He closed his eyes tight and the blood tickled the sides of his face as the drops ran from his eyes, probably making it look like he was crying crimson tears. He wasn’t though, he wasn’t crying. His body hurt, his head was throbbing, the world was swirling around him when his eyes were open and his face was bruised, nicked and bloody, but he didn’t cry.

    Really his head felt too heavy to even lift and he was too dizzy and exhausted after the head bashing to think too much about it.

    “Argh!” he cried out in surprise when the guy kicked his left leg away from the other. It made his knee hurt again.

    Before he could say or do anything, the man was sitting on his knees in between Dean’s legs. With an effort Dean lifted his head with a frown, but he had to place his head back on the floor again so his sight could settle. “What are you doing?” he mumbled.

    The man swiftly pushed his hands up under Dean’s shirt at the sides and grabbed the edge of his pants and his belt and yanked at them to get them down. However, it didn’t work.

    “Ouch!” Dean shouted at the surprising and hurting tug at his pants. “What the _Hell_ are you doing?! Cut it out, man!” It was like he woke up in that second. He himself grabbed at his pants to keep them in place. He lifted his head with a frown and his eyes widened when he saw how the man was positioned.

    His stomach almost turned at the realization of what the guy was doing and his whole body instantly felt like it froze to ice at the sight. Even though his sight still was a bit blurry with blood and slightly spinning, he could see that almost clearly.

    The man was between his legs, on his knees, bent a bit over him and smiling in the most disgustingly joyful way. Dean Knew the twinkle in his eyes; the look of one who believe they are going to get late, but there was something else in his eyes too, something evil. Dean definitely did not like the sight of that; especially not when _he_ was the center of the _so not wanted_ attention.

    He tugged at Deans Jeans again and Dean went all ‘Jumping Jack’ on him and kicked about. His knee and his ribs hurt unbelievably, as did his head, but he didn’t care, just wanted to get away from that sick man right away. He got some more blood in his eyes again and closed them.

    “Don’t touch me!” he shouted with all the power in his lungs. He couldn’t think straight. The only things going through his mind was: ‘guy’, ‘touch’, ‘sex’, ‘no’, and ‘don’t’, and ‘get away’. He blinks his eyes open, tries to blink the blood away as well.

    He tugged all that he could at his restraints; he kicked all that he could with both of his legs (which wasn’t much; His right foot was stuck and entangled and his left was more or less disabled by the hurt in the knee), he wiggled away as much as he could get with his body and he pushed at the floor to get further with his free hand.

    “NO!” He was so scared he couldn’t believe it. Yeah, he could get a bit scared at a hunt too (not something he would ever admit to anyone), but he was always in control of his body and knew what to do. “DUDE! YOU CAN’T DO THIS!” But this situation? He didn’t have control of anything, he was tied down and he did not know what else to do besides what he already was doing. “DON’T!”

    He knew he wasn’t thinking clearly, but he was having serious trouble calming down and thinking straight right now.

    The guy didn’t look too happy with the struggle, he looked kind of annoyed. He sighed loudly pressed a hand to Deans stomach and leaned in on it. It almost stopped Dean’s flailing.

    “AUGH, NO! HELP ME!” Dean screamed in hope that someone would hear him. “SOMEBODY HELP!”

    The hand with the man’s bodyweight on him was pressing him down to the floor of the truck so he almost couldn’t move. It also cut off a bit of his air and it made Dean take deeper breaths.

    Dean was panting now; the pressure on his stomach and the angst partly overtaking making it harder to breathe normally.

    Dean grabbed his arm and tried to push it away. He wasn’t able too. The man pushed at the bottom of Dean’s shirt with his other hand so the shirt was out of his way, then he started unbuckling Deans belt. “Whoa!” Dean instantly moved his hand to push the man’s hand away and to cover his belt buckle. “NO! No, no, no, no, no!”

    “Remove your hand, Ted!” the man says, with his hand trying to pry Dean’s fingers away.

    “No, **you** remove your hands! Both of them!”

    “Listen kid-“ Dean cut him off before he could say anymore.

    “Exactly! _**KID!**_ I’m just a kid! I don’t want this! It’s illegal!” The man just made a face, rolled his eyes and kept trying to get Deans hand away from the belt.

    “I don’t want this! Pl-please don’t do this!” he says and immediately regretting one of the words that slipped from his mouth. _‘Aw, just great! Now I’m **begging**! Gotta pull myself together!’_ he thought.

    There was a sound that stopped the guy. It came from the guys left pocket. He kept going with the pressure on the stomach, shoved the other hand down into the pocked and from it dug up a cellphone. He pushed the button that took the call; “Hello?”

    Dean started screaming for help. He hoped the one on the other line would hear and then call and put the cops on his ass. But he was sorely disappointed…

    “Would you just shut up, kid?! It’s my colleague; he’s not helping you, so shut it! It is not gonna get you anywhere!”

    “Colleague? Wait, this is your **_job_**?! What the hell is that-?” the hand on the stomach lifted and hit him in the face, and then it returned to where it was before.

    The hit sent him right back down on the trucks floor. It just reminded him of how much his head and ribs hurt and only added further pain.

    “YES, now shut up when I’m talking! I’m back. No, no, kid’s just not up for the last part.”

    Dean couldn’t believe this; _‘this crazy son of a bitch is actually doing his job here - **Literally!** ’_ He had to get out of this mess! He pushed at the guys hand and tried to wiggle out from under it.

    “No, he had company coming for him; I didn’t have the time back there. Yeah, some old guy, he saw my car but I was already leaving.”

    _‘Wait, what? Old guy? Jim, he came looking for me, it must have been him on the phone! It must’ve been! Then maybe he’s on the heels of this guy! I might only need to give him little more time to catch up‘._ He hit the guys arm and pushed at it. He trashed around as much as he was able to, but it wasn’t much.

    “Kid! Stop doing that!”

    “No, you can’t make me! He will come and kick your ass if I don’t do it first!”

    “Nobody will come for you! Don’t you think I made sure of that?”

    “No! He will come, and when he does you’ll wish you were dead!” _‘How could he be so sure Jim didn’t go after him? Well, he obviously don’t know much about hunters’_

    “Who will come? The old man back in the other forest? Haha! He won’t find me! He would be driving in the wrong direction long before he finds out it’s the wrong way!”

    “He’s smarter than you think! He’d never-“

    “Shut it! I’m on the phone here, kid! We can talk later. Have some respect and be silent when someone’s on the phone! - What? Yes I’m still here. Well spit it out so I can get this done with then, what’d you want? Aha.” He put the phone at his shoulder by his ear and started on the belt again.

    “No! Cut it out man!”

    “Just shut up and lay still!”

    “No, no, no, man no! Stop it! Stop it man! Don’t!” Said Dean and tried to stop his fingers. He didn’t care that the guy was on the phone. _‘Hell no! He isn’t respecting my rights to say no and he has fucking kidnapped me! Why should I respect his stupid phone call?’_ Dean tried to wiggle away and still screamed for help.

    “What, you ran out too? Shut it kid! No, no but I only got one left. No. Yeah, I got it here in my pocket. Save it? Well, where are you at? I’m not that far from there. Okay, and which cabin? Ted, shut the fuck up! Stop worming around!”

    Dean did everything he could to get out of this. But the man grabbed his free hand with the one he’d had on the stomach. Dean almost turned around when he let go. Though the guy just turned him right back and placed his hand back on his stomach, just this time, he held Dean’s free hand that was not so free anymore in place under his own in a tight grip, and held Dean down with it. The other hand opened the belt buckle and pulled the belt out of Dean’s pants. Dean kept on yelling and ‘worming around’. “NO! Can’t we talk about this?!”

    “No trouble at all. Great, but then I’m gonna do it. Because it’s mine and you shouldn’t expect it to be the same… and it’s not an endless supply! Good. See you soon. Bye.”

    The man put down the cell phone on top of the wooden box with the rope Deans foot was entangled in. “Teddy bear, I know you want me to focus on you, but you could at least have waited till I was done talking.”

    “I DO NOT want your focus, leave me alone! And don’t call me that! Let go of me!”

    “Aww, Teddy bear, does someone need a hug?” he said in a ‘sweet’ mocking tone.

    “Hug me and I’ll kill ya’!”

    That just made the man laugh, loud and happy in sound. “Oh, Ted… I’m gonna do so much more than that” and with that he let go of Dean’s wrist and once again yanked at his pants to get them off.

    “NOHoo!” Dean fumbled for his pants.

    “Tight pants. Why did you bother with the belt?”

    They didn’t go all the way the man wanted, so he slapped Dean’s, once again, free hand away and unbuttoned his pants. “Don’t do that!” Dean hissed in angst and anger through clenched teeth and the man unzipped Dean’s zipper. “Stop!”

    “I don’t stop till the jobs done, kiddo” and with that he yanked the pants off of Dean’s bud, making him gasp in surprise, the boxers were still where they should be. “And it isn’t done till I’ve shown you who the boss is!”

    The guy’s Creepy smile is so big it almost looks like a cartoon-smile, though it is way too vicious and sinister to even get close to that.

    “Okay! Fine! You’re the boss! You’re the boss! Job’s done, you can let me go now!”

    “Oh, the job doesn’t work that way, Teddy!” he grinned.

    Dean already knew that, but it had been worth a try. The Man now yanked Dean’s boxer-shorts off of his ass too.

    “AOU!” he screamed in shock. “NO!” His ass and his private parts were bare and the chilly morning-air he could feel on his newly exposed ass and front made him feel very uncomfortable. Not to mention the feeling of the guy’s big rough hands on him or the way he was manhandled.

    His first reaction to this was off course to cover himself and his hand was on his crotch to shield it from the man’s sight.

    The realization had only just hit him _for real_. Dean could not keep himself from thinking about what he now _knew_ the crazy man, ** _between his legs,_** was about to do to him. “Oh, G-God!” Dean breathed in terror. His heart was beating so fast and Dean’s face was bright red under the layers of bruises, wounds and blood – which still oozed, though some of it had dried on his sore face. _‘This can’t happen! This is freaking humiliating!’_ Dean thought to himself. _’And he’s not even gotten to the worst part yet’_

***~*~***

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	6. The Tip Of The Tip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean still struggles with the man who captured him and panic pokes at his heart...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to cut this chapter down to this - I had written it too long so you'll get more in the next chapter ..

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    Dean didn’t know where to look – to look away in humiliated embarrassment or to stare the sick pervert down in deep abhorrence and resentment. And he was scared. He tried not to let it show but he obviously very much failed at that.

    His face was – even though bloody and bruised to a state he didn’t know of yet – a swirl of a lot of different emotions. Angry, fearful, disgusted, ashamed, pained, vengeful, confused looks flashed over his features in waves he couldn’t control and the feelings were also swimming around in his gut. The man just smiled and laughed at him and the emotions he saw on Dean’s face and his pathetic attempt to cover them up.

    One thing he did know for sure was that this was a seriously screwed to hell fucked up bad situation and he had to get out of it. He just… didn’t know how to do that just yet.

    Dean closed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm himself and clear his thoughts. His eyes shot up when he felt the man’s dry, rough hands on both sides of his ass.

    “Hands off!” Dean moved his hand down to remove the hand on his right bud cheek. He grabbed the hand and shoved it away.

    Then he saw the way the man was eyeing his member and hurriedly covered it up with his hand again.

    The man seemed disappointed about it being covered up again. “Oh hoh,” he huffed, “don’t be so shy, Teddy, let me see it again I didn’t get a good look”

    “Screw you!” he growled and the man laughed and grabbed his ass once again and gave both cheeks a squeeze.

    “OH, don’t do that! Get your filthy hands off of me!” Dean yelled in response and tightened the muscles in his bud cheeks. He was about to shove the man’s hand away again, but the look on the man’s face when Dean moved his hand from the crotch made him change his mind and cover it again. His hand was about to move a couple more times but got back right away, unable to decide what to do. The man just laughed at him again. _‘This guy sure does laugh a lot,’_ Dean thought, _‘it’s really not that funny at all’_

    “Ahh… Waw. Boy, you have the softest firm cheeks I have held in my hands the last couple of years!” the man said like he _really_ enjoyed the feeling of them in his hands and squeezed them again a couple of times, again and again, just kneading them in his hands. “Sweet ass” he whispered as if to himself.

    “Stop it you son of a bitch!” Dean tried to lift his ass and crawl away from the touch but his knee hurt, he was still stuck and he just couldn’t do it, it just gave the man space to get a better grip on his ass instead. The man smiled mockingly at his try, but he kept trying anyway. “Stop touching me!” he almost screamed, panicked at the kneading of his ass.

    The guy laughed again and said: “Now why would I do that?” he kept on kneading the bud cheeks in his hands.

    “Fucking stop it and give me my pants back on!” Dean was furious and scared. He just wanted the hands off of him and to get as far away from that man as possible.

    “Teddy, Teddy, Teddy… If I do that, then how am I supposed to fuck your _firm ass_?” he asked, saying the last two words in a deep rough tone and squeezed his bud extra hard.

    Dean jolts and tries to strangle the shocked whine that bursts out of his mouth. “I’m not playing for your team, man!” Dean turns over his left side towards the edge of the truck and grabs it with his hand. “Stop torching me, you freak! Let me go!” he tries to kick with his good leg, it’s still stuck, but he rolled off of the grouping hands. “Eh… Help me!” Dean peaks over the edge, he only sees more trees. But he turns his head and further behind the man he sees a bench and a toilet-house and past that he sees the road and more trees that conceal the rest of it. _‘We’re at a layby?’_ Disbelief flashes shortly over his face.

    The man sighed audibly. “You don’t need to be. I don’t care which team you play for anyway. Now get back down here so I can do this properly.” The man pushed a bit at Dean’s stomach.

    “No” Dean panted a bit heavier as his ribs really hurt whenever he moved.

    “Lay back down Ted!” Now he leaned in over Dean and tugged at his jackets sleeve to get him down, but Dean didn’t let go, he just yelled some more for help and for the man to let go and to let him be. “Get off of that, kid!” he took a better hold at his elbow and squeezed, but Dean didn’t let go or lay down. “This is the last time I say this Teddy: You lay back down, now!”

    “Or what?!” he shouted back without looking at him. “Let go!”

    “You let go!” the man said and when he got a ‘No’ back he let go of the arm and grabbed the jacket on the side and the touch at the sore hurting ribs had Dean trembling, he bend his head down and he almost let go of the edge of the truck. The guy noticed this, of course, and tapped at the ribs a little hard with a flat hand. Dean trembled some more, trying not to let it show and grunted. “Lay down, Teddy.” The guy said smiling.

    Dean didn’t want to; he knew what happened if he did. So he said ‘No’ yet again and called out for help, for somebody to come help him.

    Now the man hit him in the ribs, soft hit, but hard enough to make Dean yelp in pain, let go and fall down on his side with his arm at the hurting area. “Get on your back” the man said and shoved him to his back by the ribs, which made Dean whine and grunt.

    The man leaned further in over Dean to tug him to the middle of the trucks floor and then sat back down on his heels. He looked at Dean whilst Dean was wincing and quietly moaned softly at the soreness.

    “Fine, no more fooling around, let’s just get the job done then.” He lifted his shirt a bit, opened his belt, buttoned open the top of his pants and audibly, very slowly unzipped his zipper.

    Dean desperately tried to grab for and pull his boxers and pants back up in place where they should be, but whenever he got his hand on either, his hand was slapped away every time, fingers pried open and off and his pants and boxers were shoved half way down his thighs.

    The man got up on his knees, grabbed the sides of his own open jeans and shoved them down, just a little under his ass and manhood. He wasn’t wearing any underwear, apparently for obvious reasons. He was staring at Dean, maybe to see his reaction. His sack was hanging heavy under his half-hard cock, the cock was long and a bit fat and the head of it were wide.

    Dean’s eyes were wide, his jaw was clenched and he had to swallow repeatedly. He felt his face get hot and then freeze over with fear. He couldn’t help staring at it. It was as if time stood still… until the man wrapped his left hand around his dick and started jerking it off. It slowly raised itself and it twitched in his hands.

    Dean closed his eyes and turned his face to the right. _‘This isn’t true! It’s not right! I-I’m dreaming – it’s a nightmare! Can’t be true! Oh, God! Let it be gone when I open my eyes!’_

    “Aw, cute, but you don’t have to be shy, you can look at it all you want ‘till it disappears… up in your ass.” He laughed gloomily. Dean heard him vaguely but didn’t answer. “Hey, breathe Teddy!” he slapped Deans left thigh and Dean’s eyes shot up and he suddenly exhaled heavily and for a short moment he gasped for air. He had apparently been holding his breath unconsciously.

    With wide eyes he looked up at the man’s face, down at the cock standing proud in the hand, and then back up at the man’s face.

    Dean was panting still, he felt fear sneak up and poke at his heart that beat faster by the second and it only got worse. His nostrils were fluttering with every breath and his chest was full of emotions he didn’t know what to do with. He felt very pale and nauseous at the mere thought of thinking a thought of that kind of terrible thoughts he was thinking. It made his head spin slowly.

    His head was throbbing again, he almost closed his eyes as he had to lay his head back down, but he kept them open. Every alarm in his head was going off and it was noisy as hell. Dean didn’t lift his throbbing head but he kept his eyes on the man.

    The man let go of his cock and for a brief moment it bounced up and down. He sat back down on his heels again. He placed his hands at the sides of Dean’s bare upper thighs and slid them back and forth.

    Dean jerked, wiggled and wormed to get away from the touch. Desperately he kept on moving his body, to get away, to get a hold on his jeans and boxers, and to make space between them so he wouldn’t be so close to his body. His hands were slapped away whenever he tried to reach his pants.

    The man spread his own legs wide, pushing at Dean’s to wide out too. “Don’t! Not that! Don’t you do it!” Dean’s breathe sped up as his heart beat faster.

    The man smiled to himself as he looked down. Dean knew what he saw; his own happy dick free of his pants, Deans cock lying flat and limb, spread legs, jeans tugged down, ass bare and only one hand flailing around; struggling to do _something._

    “Don’t look at me like that!” Dean exclaimed. The man met his eyes with his own. _‘Oh God, That’s just worse!’_ The man’s eyes was full of lust and sparkling with mocking knowledge of what’s going to happen and that Dean can’t do nothing about it. Dean’s breathe got caught in his throat.

    Without looking away the man grabbed Dean’s legs by the hollow of the knees. Dean winced at the pain in his knee by the touch but he didn’t look away either, he just clenched his jaw and kept staring back at the guy.

    The man lifted up the knees and spread his own knees out wider underneath them. Dean lay as if he had frozen to the spot and just stared the man into the eyes.

    Neither of them said anything, only Dean’s heavy breath and the bird’s morning songs around them were audible.

    Now the man dragged Dean in close to him by the legs, only the restraint on his wrist prevented him from getting all the way to him. The man let go of Dean’s left leg and lifted his arm above Dean’s jeans and grabbed both them and the boxers to tug them toward Dean’s Knees. But before he could tug at them, Dean forced with all his power his leg up toward the man’s ribs. He kicked the man once, with a heavy blow, and his left knee collided with the man’s ribs just under the armpit. The sound was loud and the man screamed in pain and shock. He closed his eyes and broke the stare into Dean’s eyes. Dean’s knee hurt a lot too, more so after the collision with the man’s side.

    Dean blinked and with clenched teeth he was about to kick again when the man punched him in the stomach so the air left his lungs.

    “Don’t do that again kid!” he yelled at him.

    While Dean held the hand to his stomach, coughed and gasped for air, desperately needing his lungs to be filled with it again, the man held his sore spot with his left hand, the arm across his chest, half bend over himself and cursing.

    He hit Dean’s left thigh hard, making him yelp, and grunted. He grabbed the hollow of the still gasping Dean’s knees, lifted them a bit up and scooted in close to Dean so that their thighs rubbed against each other.

    Dean now panted in panic and again went all Jumping Jack. “Lay still!” the man growled, he got a hoarse ‘No’ from Dean, leaned forward and hit Dean in the face till he stopped squirming.

    Dean’s head hurt so much, the world wouldn’t stand still, he could taste blood in his mouth, more blood oozed down his face - some of it down into his eyes too - and his left eye throbbed with pain and started oozing liquid, it wasn’t tears, it didn’t feel like tears but it stung in his eye.

    The man panted heavily. “You… are the most… stubborn and squirmy pain-in-my-ass catch… that I’ve ever gotten” Dean didn’t response; he couldn’t really get his head straight.

    The man sat back up, readjusted Dean’s thighs on his own. Then he took a hold with both hands under Dean’s ass and lifted him up. Dean had to put his free hand on the trucks floor in order to gain balance and keep his body steady.

    Dean flinched and started trembling. His head was a swirl but he felt the touch of the man’s hands perfectly fine. Dean could feel the man’s eyes staring at his crotch. “Quit the stare!” He was so tired of fighting him but he was too afraid of what would happen if he didn’t to stop. So weakly he jerked to get down again.

    “Stop squirming Ted, you can’t win this.” The man told him, scooted in close to Dean so his ass was on the top of the man’s thighs. The man softly groaned at the contact so close to his manhood. His dick had fallen a little after the kick in his ribs but it wasn’t limb at all.

    Dean trembled even more. His body felt heavy as lead and cold with fear.

    The man held Dean up with his left arm under Dean’s ass and lower back, took his own cock in his right palm and stroked it twice. Dean saw it out of his squinting eyes and his trembling went spastic for a moment, so the man had to let go of his dick and get a better hold on Dean who shouted: “NO! NOT THAT! Fuck, not that! Don’t- Don’t you dare do that!”

    “Guess I better just hurry it up if you are to be done today.” The guy mumbled. He scooted and pushed himself towards Dean and further, until Dean’s right foot’s restraints stopped him from moving. Dean briefly squeezed his eyes shut because of the pain throbbing through his ribs, and opened them again to stare at the guy. The left eye still stung and wouldn't open up as much as the right eye. The man readjusted his grip on Dean and palmed his own dick again, this time with the left hand and his right arm under and around Dean’s lower back and waist.

    Dean wiggled, wormed and squirmed all that he was able to, but the man held him tight with his right arm and prevented Dean from kicking him again. The guy was leaned in over Dean and Dean took the chance.

    “Ouh!” Dean had hit him hard in the face with his right fist but had to place it back on the floor for stability as he lay uncomfortably with his ass lifted up and his hurting chest in a painful angle. He would have held his arm to his ribs, but he couldn't at the moment and tried to ignore the pain. “Oh, you’re gonna regret that, Teddy.” The man said, voice strained but calm. He just straightened his back, looked down at what he was doing and readjusted Dean on his lap, so their skin was flush against each other and he moaned as Dean hissed at the sensation of their ball sacks meeting each other. “This’ll teach you” he mumbled to Dean.

    Deans trembling had never been worse. He couldn’t control it at all as he squirmed all he could and shouted at the man to let him go and not to do it. “Don’t touch me! Let go of me! Hands off, deaf psychopath! Don’t! Not this! You can’t do this! Stop goddamn retarded scumbag! I said don’t’ do it, monkeybrained ugly dickface!”

    “Ohh, yes, that’s it; talk dirty to me!” the man said back at him in an exaggerated moan and calmly breathed a brief laugh. He palmed his dick between Dean’s dick and Deans Boxers and pants where it peeked out, and stroke himself. Then he gave a thrust against Dean and moaned loudly. Dean shouted ‘No!’ and ‘Stop’ repeatedly as the man rubbed his hips against him.

    The man stopped, leaned a little backwards and guided his dick downwards. Dean’s eyes widened out (the left eye couldn't widen that much though), he stiffened like a plank of wood and felt like all color had drained from his body when he felt the tip of the dick travel south.

    It was when it began to poke at the hole of his anus that he jumped, started flailing uncontrollably and shouted babbling for him to quit it and get away from him.

    The man ignored him and groaned audibly exaggeratedly loud to drown Dean’s desperate yells. His dickhead pressed against Dean’s hole slowly.

    Dean shouted “Ouch!” and yelped whiningly. “Av, No! Oh, stop! Get that away from me! Oh, No, no, no, no! Not this! Not this, not this, not this, please stop! GET OFF OF ME!”

    Dean’s voice swayed between high-pitched and low growl. The man just groaned even more obscene and loud. He pulled back, it wasn’t even the whole tip, it was only a tip of the tip, but it was the mere thought of getting penetrated like this that had him shouting in terror. And it did hurt even though it wasn’t much of the tip.

    Whole Dean’s body felt like the sun was inside him – he instantly began so sweat insanely and his body was so hot it felt like his body was boiling from the inside and out.

    The man pushed a little harder at the hole and Dean let a short, high cry roll from his lips. It made the man pull back but he was there again a second later pressing a bit slower. Dean yelled at the man to stop and get the hell away from him, but he didn’t listen. Dean tried to press his legs into the man’s sides, to strangle his waist till he stopped – but he didn’t, though it held him at bay for about five seconds. Dean tried to press with all his strength with his legs but his knee hurt too much, he couldn’t keep it up, he couldn’t keep him away, he couldn’t do it.

    The man poked at Dean with little thrusts to get further in, which he didn’t get. The whole head wasn’t even inside but it hurt like hell as it prodded at the hole. All of Dean’s muscles were tightly clenched and he bit his lip in concentration to keep the intruder out.

    The pressure stopped and Dean was heaving in breath, still with frightened wide eyes. The man seemed to be thinking something over, but he didn’t let go of Dean and kept him in place. He pulled away and Dean let out a relieved huff of breath and trembled on.

    But the man wasn’t done yet. He just stroke himself and groaned till a bit of precum trickled out from the tip of the head. One drop dripped from it and landed on Dean’s limp dick. It was warm and tickling on his skin as the drop dripped down of him. Dean’s trembling wouldn’t stop and he talked to and yelled at the man non-stop, trying to talk his way out of this, vary between telling him to let him go, and calling him names.

    The man completely ignored him, pulled back a little and placed the now precum-coated tip of his cockhead at Dean’s ass’s hole. Dean flinched. The wet sensation against his hole wasn’t the reason, it was the sensation of the cock being back and poking at him.

    The man smeared the precum covered head around and at the hole for a minute. Dean kept yelling at the man. He inwardly braced himself and clenched every nerve and muscle extra hard in preparation for the pressure of the man’s dick.

    Finally the man stopped the smearing but decided to stick it in, and he was careful at first when he poked at the entrance. The wetness from the precum made it easier for him and the tip of the head got a little further inside despite the clenched muscles there. Dean tried to wiggle away but he couldn’t, it only helped the man get further in. The man put a little more pressure on and got a bit further while Dean clenched his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut.

    “Hnngh… Nnngarhh” Dean growled low. “Hng. N-No!” The head of the cock was wiggled in a tiny bit more. Dean clenched his muscles harder and the head was pushed back a little. A small victory for Dean, but the man pressed on a bit harder too, Dean couldn’t clench it out. Dean growled at the pain.

    It was like being split in half… slowly, from the inside. Panic filled his heart with more fear and he pleaded through his clenched teeth for the man to withdraw and stop this. “Ugh! Please! Ngh-N-No! GET IT OUT! Pull it out, pull it out, please! I c-can’t do this! It doesn’t fit! Arg! Please!”

    The man pulled back a little and Dean thought he finally had listened, but no… the man pressed in again and Dean whined and cried: “STOP!” The man stopped inside for a minute, it was like he couldn’t get further past the tightly clenched muscles. _‘Oh God! This is too much! I can’t take this! I’d wish Jim would hurry up and come gank this guy!’_ Dean’s voice quivered a bit when he spoke now: “P-Please just stop. Get out, Get it out of me! You can’t do it, I-I can’t take it! It doesn’t fit! It’s not supposed to get in there! I can’t do it! It’s too big!”

    The man groaned breathily and pulled back, all the way out. Dean huffed a shaky breath at that. _‘Finally!’_ But the man noticed his relief and said: “I’m not done yet. Damn Ted, you’re fucking tight! I didn’t even get the whole head in. But I’ll try again, don’t you worry.”

    Deans heart splintered at that moment, he was so tired and dizzy, so mad and afraid and a lot of other things too, and this, it was too much, the pain was unbelievable. He shouted all the curses he knew at the guy. He’d dealt with pain before from hunts and what not, but not that kind of pain, and _never there. Never_ there in that delicate, sensitive, _private_ area… And the guy wanted to do it again. He could feel the tears prickling in the back of his eyeballs, but he willed them away. This was more than enough humiliation, he didn’t need that too.

***~*~***

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a bit longer than usual, but feels to me like it's kind of a filler also .. I hope you don't mind ? ..
> 
> Thanks for the Kudos and comments you've given me ! .. It's real nice to get the feetback from you guys .. (;
> 
> So... How do y'all feel about this one ? .. Do you think it's a filler or ? .. What's on your mind ? ..


	7. The Very First Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, Dean is in BIG trouble, this might be the worst he've experienced so far .. And in the end The man does something that makes Dean start to reconsider; What kind of monster is he really ? ..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys ..  
> Crap, I'm sorry about the delay of posting this thing ! ..  
> This weekend just sucked .. My computer crashed momentarily, deleted my most resent documents, one of which this chapter was written in, and I had to rewrite the whole thing. And as if it wasn't bad enough for starters; my internet chose to crash monday morning and I only just resently got it to work again .. Well, let's just call it a crappy weekend ..

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    The man had stroked himself again so more precum showed on the tip. Dean felt his stomach turn at the sight. The man lined it up and Dean braced himself and tried to calm his thundering heart.

    The cock pressed on the hole, the tip of the head slipped in and Dean tried to press it out again. Then the man pushed harder than before. Dean growled low in his throat behind clenched teeth. The man held his dick in his left hand and pushed at the dick with it to get it in.

    The guy kept pushing, kept the pressure on him and didn’t let go with his other hand around Dean either. It actually clenched around him hard too. Then in a thrust the head was inside. The man groaned at the sensation of getting it in. Dean strangled a cry and hissed and grunted in pain. “God it hurts!” _‘How can anyone think this is nice?!’_ Dean panted heavily in pain, staring as if he could see where the dick was put in, while the man just moaned delighted and closed his eyes softly in pleasure.

    Suddenly the man opens his eyes and stares directly into Deans eyes. The man’s pupils were dilated in lust. “Good, now to the better part!” he breathes out to Dean. Dean’s eyes widened. He had an idea of what the guy meant and he knew it wouldn’t be pleasant. Not for Dean at least.

    The guy readjusts his hold on Dean with his right hand and then, while he starts pressing in again, he pulls Dean towards himself. It works and as he pushes in he lets go of his dick with the left hand and places it at Deans right hip, squeezes it and uses it to pull at Dean and get further inside him.

    It _burns_ inside Dean where the cock penetrates him, stretches him out. The walls of his clenched ass feels like they caught on fire and the burning doesn’t stop. The sensation is unbearably _agonizing_ and the guy just keeps going further in. At the same time it feels like the dick it pressing at some vomit in Dean’s stomach but he manages to keep it down. It hurts so much he can't ignore it. Dean squeezes his eyes shut and _**screams.** _

    It’s a gut-wrenching scream of pain. His body is writhing in agony and horror, twisting to get away, kicking at the floor and his free hand is alternately clawing at the man’s hand on his hip and at the floor of the truck.

    The man groans out loud in pleasure. “Yes, that’s right! Scream for me baby, scream!” he laughs and looks at Dean who can’t stop screaming. Dean suddenly has a burning desire to get him out of him (of course), stab him in the gut and rip his intestines out for him to see, then poke his eyes out, cut his dick off and watch him bleed out. He opens his eyes and clenches his teeth while continuing the scream and stares daggers at the man in rage. But his eyes widens out more the deeper the man gets and the scream stops.

    It’s like all motion just stops and time stands still. The man is now balls deep in Dean and he can’t breathe. It felt like the man’s cock filled so much that it stopped his ability to fill his lungs and breathe, like it was pressing on his windpipe in his throat. It hurts and he suddenly can’t move a muscle, as if every nerve in his body has frozen.

    Dean’s muscles spasms shortly and he clenches even harder down on the cock inside him. The man groans deeply at the feeling and Dean bites his lip.

    He stayed still a moment longer inside Dean. Just moaning in pleasure and enjoying the moment. Dean had no more air and needed to take a breath, when he tried that, his muscles once again clenched tightly around the man’s cock and he squeezed his eyes shut, because that just made it worse; the clench of his muscles only made him feel the cock clearer and get an idea of how big the thing that was shoved up his ass really was, plus it made its owner moan like he was a porn star. The sound pushed at the bile in his stomach, but nothing happened.

    Dean had never imagined it possible, but the agonizing pain got even worse when time began to flow again; when the man started to pull out. It burned inside of him when skin dragged against skin, but it was relieving to get it out, even though it wasn’t all the way out and the head still remained inside of him, and most of his muscles could clench at nothing again.

    It made him take a breath and fill his craving lungs once again, it wasn’t as bad this time but he still clenched down on the head still in his ass.

    “Get out of me! Get it out! Please!” Dean said, voice strained.

    “Shut up” the man moaned back.

    “Please...” Dean breathed almost not audible.

    “Ohh, this is heaven…” The man squeezed Dean’s hip and asked: “Are you ready to play your harp for me Angel?”

    Dean opened his right eye a bit. “What? What are you…? AAARGH!” The man pressed in till he was balls deep once again and the pain made Dean scream.

    “Yes! Oh. That note, you hit it perfectly, you’re playing that instrument beautifully, Ted!” he said panting.

    Dean winced. With a dry mouth and throat he said: “ _That_ ’s what you..? You’re sick!”

    He laughed and the vibrations from his body went through his dick through to Dean’s body so Dean winced and his muscles clenched tighter and made the laughter a groan of pleasure instead, which only made Dean swear at himself in his mind. It made him feel sick.

    Dean tried not to breathe too much while the cock was inside him, but the man let be there for so long that he had to take a deep breath. He clenched both his eyes and his fists as he did his muscles, only to feel the dick clearer and hear the man groan again.

    _‘I can’t believe this guy! How can someone find pleasure in hurting someone else? – In hearing them scream in pain? That is just…’_ he couldn’t even find the word for it.

    The man pulled out most of the way again and Dean took another deep breath. They were both panting and Dean pleaded the man like crazy not to do that again. He couldn’t stop himself from pleading; the words just left his mouth, even dry and shaky as they came out of his mouth.

    “Ow, no, no, p-please! Stop! Please just stop! Get it out of me please! Please, please pull it out! No more! Please, it hurts! No more! Don’t! ARGH!” Dean screamed again ‘cause the man just thrust it in.

    The clenched muscles prevented the man from thrusting it in all the way and he readjusted his right hand so both his hands were on Dean’s hips now, and he pulled Dean down over his cock. And Dean screamed, again. A shorter scream, not as loud but a scream nonetheless.

    “Yes! Sing for me, Angel, sing! Oh, it’s music to my ears!” he pulled back till the head and Dean heaved in a breath.

    “PLEASE! N-No – No more!” his voice was quivering. “You’ve got what you came for! Please just pull out and let me go!”

    The guy chuckled and smiled at him. “This is your first time right, Teddy Bear?” Dean didn’t answer him. “I know it is, no one is that tight if it isn’t. Oh, you’ve been a real angel up until now, haven’t you, Ted? Or have you only been with girls?”

    “P-Please just let me go?”

    “Oh-hoh, you haven’t? Waw, you sure are mommy and daddy’s little angel, aren’t you?”

    “Shut up!”

    “I hit a sore spot there?”

    “You shut up about them! You don’t have any right to-“

    “I think I did! Teddy, they’d just be so proud of you!”

    “You don’t know shit about my family!”

    The man chuckled again and Dean had to shut his eyes at the feeling. “They’d be so proud; their sweet little Teddy didn’t go sleeping around with everybody… till now of course.” Dean made a strangled noise. “Now... Now you are making the sweetest music as I fuck your pure, untouched little ass!” With that he thrust in hard and forced out another scream from Deans throat.

    Dean tried to stop his scream, unsuccessfully. And the man moaned happily while Dean mewled almost inaudibly to not be screaming. _‘I can’t scream, that’s just what he wants! Shit it hurts but I have to stop screaming, I have to stop it!’_

    “So scream for me my angel-boy,” He said while almost pulling out, “scream!” And he slammed it in again, ripping a strangled scream from Dean. “Aw, you can’t stop playing my music now, you’re playing my song, and it ain’t finished yet, Ted!” he pulled back again and thrust back in.

    The scream flew out of his mouth but he cut it off and strangled most of it. His body was trembling. He was holding his breath and he tried not to make any more sounds. Before he was a bit uncaring about screaming, but now he didn’t want to do it, ‘cause he knew the man got off on it.

    Dean tried to move, to claw at the man’s hand, to do anything but just lean back and take it. It didn’t work though, the more he moved the more it hurt and the more the man moaned and got further in. _‘Damn it! Not what I wanted! Can’t move, that makes it worse! It hurts more! God it hurts!’_ “Please! S-Stop! – AGH!”

    “Ups!” The man had accidentally pulled all the way out. That hurt more than Dean had thought it could. But he knew that now was a small chance to do just _something_ , so he tried. He tried to throw himself anywhere, to any side away from the man, even though his chest and knee hurt worse than hell because of it. His hand clawed at his hand, his legs kicked about what little they could and he pulled at his restraints. “Lay still! Fuck! I’m tired of this, you lay still when I tell you to!” The man removed his left, now lightly bleeding, hand, grabbed his own dick again and readjusted his right arm around Dean’s waist.

    Dean started clawing at that hand instead and using his elbow to keep his balance. He started yelling angrily at the man, he felt the rage throughout his whole body and didn’t stop moving whatever he could move.

    But the man did have the upper hand and he soon found the way to his hole, held Dean as still as possible and shoved himself back in till his balls was squeezed between the two of them and he moved his left hand to Dean’s upper thigh. He groaned so loud, it was almost a shout, and Dean couldn’t prevent the scream from ripping through his throat and out of his mouth. His stomach almost emptied.

    Dean was so angry he screamed all the curses he knew at the now again laughing man. The man just smiled, pulled back a little and thrust back in, hard.

    It only stopped the flood of curses and swearwords for about a second before they continued, replaced by a scream mixed with pain and rage, fear momentarily forgotten.

    The man moaned so loud in honest pleasure that it made Dean’s mind come back to reality. The man was too far gone for that moan to have any chance of being faked. He realized how hard his muscles was squeezing around the man’s dick, how it made the man react and that he’d almost squeezed it right out of him. He blinked at himself in surprise.

    But that one moment was all it took for the man to notice the muscles had loosened a little, even in his pleasure-haze, and he automatically shoved it back in as far as it would go. Dean yelped in shock as he had to focus again.

    The man thrust harder than before. He pulled half way out and shoved it back in. He did so seven times or so before it dragged a little whimper from Deans lips and he pleaded a little again. It hurt more now but his pleas were short lived. He stopped and he didn’t plea anymore.

    _‘What’s it good for? It doesn’t help anything. There’s no stopping this guy.’_ Dean thought dejectedly to himself.

    Dean Just winced, squeezed his eyes and mouth shut and tried not to make a sound. The only sounds left were the man’s sickening moans and the panting breaths and the colliding sounds of the two of them. Well, there also were the sounds of the birds flying around and singing mockingly of their own joy.

    The man put both his hands back at Dean’s hips and started using them to pull him back down over his hard cock. It hurt so bad Dean could hardly believe he was still awake, but he figured it was probably the only reason he was awake at all.

    Somehow the hurt, hurt a bit less and the drag and twist of skin inside got easier – all because some sort of liquid began to smoothen the way inside. At first it confused him, he thought of what it could be but knew it wasn’t the man’s cum. The man was too hard and the dick was still fattening inside him, and he hadn’t felt his release anyway. Somehow, Dean knew what it really was. He just wouldn’t admit it and hoped it wasn’t too bad.

    The man squeezed his hips again whilst still slamming himself inside him. “Open your pretty eyes, Angel, I Want to see them while I fuck you raw!” He squeezed harder till he did as he was told.

    Dean fluttered his right eye open. Shortly looked the guy in the eyes but found that he couldn’t do that. It was just too much. Tears began prickling in the back of his eyeballs. It was the only thing he had the energy to will away.

    “Angel” The man moaned at him as he saw him blink.

    “Don’t call me that, I’m no angel” Dean said through clenched teeth. But it was without real emotion and his jaw was only clenched to stop his sounds of his ache from slipping out of his mouth. The fight had simply seeped out of him.

    The man smiled. “I call you what I want, my Angel Teddy Bear.” He got no response. “Or I could call you ‘Angel Bear’? Or ‘Bear Angel’?” he moaned. Still he got no response.

    Dean said nothing to him and just stared up at the sky that seemed only to get bluer by the second. He still clenched his jaw and his body was still tense, but it had slackened to slightly flaccid. Dean did nothing more to stop the man from violating him than to clench some of his muscles a bit, which wasn’t of much use. He couldn’t fight him no more. His whole body ached, his head was still swimming and throbbing more or less from the beating and still got worse, and he couldn’t open his left eye even if he had wanted to. It must have swollen in the meantime.

    The man’s moans only got more and more sickening and he pounded into him in a harder and faster pace, hip to hip, balls deep every time. As he lay there and listened, Dean noticed a sound of drops. Like little droplets dripping into a small puddle of water, like it dripped after rain had stopped. He realized it was himself – it was his blood oozing and dripping down on the floor of the truck.

    That was it, that was the last thing that was needed to push his stomach over the edge and he felt how bile was pushed up through his throat where he tried to stop it, his hand flew up to cover his mouth, but he knew it wouldn’t hold for long. The second he felt the back of his throat give in he removed his hand and closed his eye while turning his head to the right in a snap and let it all out. He threw up right beside his head without turning anything else but his head and he held the free hand to his stomach, while he was still getting fucked and he still was tied up. Decency had left him a while ago, but this definitely didn’t make it any better. Anyhow, he found that he just didn’t care about that anymore. He threw up again, held his stomach a little while longer before placing it back down on the floor and hearing a tiny splash. He felt the wet puddle under his thumb. He knew what the wet feeling was, and where it came from. He didn’t look. That would only make it more real.

    Instead, he spat the remains of the vomit, still in his mouth, out and then he spat some more just to be sure there wasn’t any left in his mouth.

    “You’ve gotten a little sick there, haven’t you, Angel Bear?” The man had slowed his pace a little just to ask and sped it up again. Dean just coughed in answer, that made him clench down on the dick again and the man moaned.

    He slowed the pace again, let the left hand slide up the side of Dean’s stomach and asked: “Have you gotten cold?” Dean frown his forehead and wonder at that.

    _‘Why the hell should that even be of any importance to him? He can beat me and fuck me, but I can’t catch a cold? What the hell?’_

    The guy squeezed Dean’s side and slid the hand down to the thigh and squeezed. “Look up Teddy.” Dean didn’t move so he squeezed harder “Come on now Teddy, I wanna see your face and your eye, look up!”

    _‘What for?’_ he thought to himself, _‘is he getting off on the look on my face?’_

    The man squeezed him even harder while he was still fucking him, Dean was too exhausted and drained from energy to fight anymore, so he spat one last time to clear out his mouth and turned his face upwards. “Come on, Teddy Bear, look up!” Dean let his features go slack except for his clenched jaw and then he opened his eye. The man smiled at him, sped up the pace of his thrusting hips and groaned. Dean turned his gaze back to the ever blue sky and tried to shut everything else out.

    At first it didn’t really work:

    Everything was too loud; His heavy breathe through his nose, the man’s heavy, panting breath as well, the slapping sound of skin meeting skin, the dripping of liquid he knew was blood and the worst of them all; the sickening, sticky, wet popping sound of the man pounding his cock in and out of his maltreated and abused ass.

    The feeling of everything was too present; the wet feeling of his blood under his hand, the feeling of the dripping blood trickling down his ass and lower back, The ache and throbbing in his ass, in his knee, in his chest, in his ribs, in his wrist, in his now numb foot, in his face and in his head. And the feeling of rope scraping against raw wet meat and digging the wound deeper. The worst feeling was the feeling of being split in half or more pieces from inside his ass, the cracks of wounds just getting worse and filling out the space with blood.

    He shut every sound, every feeling, and every sight that had anything to do with what was happening on this truck out of his head and focused on the sky.

    There were no clouds to see anywhere. The sun was peeking through some of the trees with its shiny, golden morning threads and a few stretched above the tree crowns as well. Some small birds were flying around above them, still singing in joy. Dean looked at all the variations of colors of the leaves, some green, some yellow, some brown and some seemed almost golden in the sun. He spent some time just with that.

    Suddenly there was a hard thrust he couldn’t ignore. It went a bit further than the other thrusts and hurt a bit more. It felt like one of his wounds was ripped deeper.

    The man slowed the pace after that thrust and the rest of his trusts became uneven for a moment and then he sped up the pace again, but it wasn’t in the same pace as before.

    Dean’s eye opened wide up as he realized what was happening with the guy. “Fuck no! Get out of me!” he yelled in newfound panic. _‘Oh, God no! Don’t tell me he’s gonna come inside me!’_ “Don’t do that in me! Don’t – Just get it out, man! Fuck – Hell no! Don’t you – DUDE – NO!”

    Both their breaths were heavier now. The man thrust in harshly a couple of times more, and then at the last, deepest and hardest thrust the man tensed, his body froze, he yelled out his heartfelt pleasure in a long moan deep from within him… and then came the semen. His cock twitched and spluttered it out inside him. It filled him up, it stung in every wound it got to, it pressed its was further in the ass and some of it pressed around and past the man’s slowly softening dick.

    “NOHOH!” Dean shouted in misery and whimpered. _‘NOT THIS! SHIT! Not this!’_ He couldn’t bear the thought of it. _‘Somebody tell me this didn’t happen!’_ This was too much. Dean felt a single tear run down the side of his face.

    The man seemed to unfreeze and almost fell on top of Dean, he managed to stop the worst of the fall with his hands on the floor on each side of Dean’s stomach and only his head hit Dean’s chest.

    While the man’s cock softened and he got over his momentary reduced mobility-dysfunction and straightened up as he got his strength back, Dean was shouting 'NO!' again and again. He tapped it down for every shout till it was merely a whisper and he whimpered slightly inaudible. He heaved in his breath multiple times in heavy gasps and tried to calm himself. He willed his eyes not to shed a single tear and squeezed his eye shut.

    The man was panting loudly. With nothing but pleasure-filled smugness he sighed, pulled out of Dean who whimpered at the feeling, put his own pants back into place and closed them, backed as far away as he could and sat down by Dean’s entangled foot and sighed relaxed again.

    Dean started trembling again. His whole body slowly started shivering. He couldn’t stop it, but he didn’t try to either. He just concentrated on his breath, taking it slowly, just one thing at the time. His ass felt weirdly… Empty. The chilly breeze didn’t do much good but it helped him clench a bit down on the nothingness that now filled his ass.

    He felt the man’s eyes on him. It must be quite a sight; all covered in mud and filth, beaten up, bloody and bruised, puke mixed with blood around his mouth and beside his head, roughed clothes, belly shown, half naked with his pants down his thighs, blood pooling around his ass and free hand and blood and cum slowly oozing from his ass. He can almost picture it behind his own eyelids and it makes him feel sick again. He just can’t spill anymore from his stomach right now.

    “That was great! Waw, what a first time for you… just perfect! Don’t you agree?” The man said. Dean just huffed out air in a soundless sob. “I know you do. You don’t have to say thanks!” and with that he jumped down onto the ground. “Okay, that just looks uncomfortable, how about we loosen that up a bit?” he said and started doing something by Dean’s right foot.

    Dean couldn’t feel what it was, so he had to open his eye, blink a couple of times and then lift his weary head to see. The man was loosening the rope and untangling his foot. It slowly started prickling and tingling in his foot as blood again steamed through his veins and his foot started to wake up. The man smiled at Dean. Dean had to lay his head back down, but apparently it was too heavy for him to control and it fell back down with a thud. It hurt but his head was already throbbing so there wasn’t much difference.

    Suddenly there was a white light and a clicking sound. It had Dean blinking and looking up. He hadn’t noticed the man had gone to get the camera in his hands. Dean just closed his eye and whispered a throaty ‘No’.

    When Dean opened his eye again, he couldn’t see the man. Then he came back into view, still with the smile on his stupid face. He began to tug at Dean's boxers. Dean trembled at the feeling and repeated ‘No’ over and over again, free hand shaking towards the hem of them.

    “Relax; I’m putting them on you.” The man said. Dean frowned at that, but it was the truth. The man tugged them back on him and did the same with his jeans before he closed them. Dean felt just a bit better, a tiny bit more comfortable and not as exposed.

    “Ow, now I got you blood all over my hands..” the man muttered and Dean looked at him. The man noticed and began to lick the blood off his fingers with a smile. “Mmm”

    Dean didn’t get this guy. _‘First he’s complaining and now he moans?’_ “W-what are you doing?” he asked sluggishly.

    “Licking your blood off my hands, mmm, and it tastes delicious.”

    “Del… Wha…? Why?”

    The man leaned in, grabbed Dean’s free hand and licked his thumb and his forefinger clean of blood and moaned.

    “Gross… Don’t…”

    “Here, have a taste.” The man guided Dean’s hand up to his now slag mouth and put in the two middle fingers still covered in blood.

    “No… Stop” Dean mummed around his fingers and tried to turn his head. The guy put the slack hand down on top of Dean’s chest. The man mummed ‘Delicious’ to himself again. And Dean wondered for a moment. _‘A Vamp? He haven’t tried to bite me yet. Hmm. He hasn't shown any sign of either great speed or strength… although he did beat me up pretty good. Almost easily. He’d already told me there’s more than just him. Maybe we’re headed to the nest? Maybe he’s just trying to hide it?’_ He decided he could at just ask – no reason to hide it if it was just them, right? Dean cleared his throat and got his attention. “You a Vamp?”

    The man laughed. Loudly. “Aren’t you a funny little thing? What do you know of Vampires?”

    “I know a thing or two. Great strength, great speed, Retractable fangs–” He was cut off.

    “Teens, haha, stupid kids now a days. You read too many fictional books.”

    _‘Well that cleared just about absolutely nothing. A simple Yes or No had worked. Hmm. He didn’t directly confirm or deny. Is that its way of confirming? But what about the sunlight? Shouldn’t that have given it a hell of a sunburn by now? Maybe it’s a new thing? Or was it a no?’_

    The guy began to close the rear end of the truck. When it was done, Dean wearily and exhausted asked with great confusion: “What kind of monster are you?” and closed his eyes. The last thing he saw was the light blue sky. He was slowly consumed by darkness, drifting to unconsciousness and the last thing he heard was the man’s laughter.

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was delayed, a few days, it's a pretty long chapter the first chapters considered, and I had to rewrite this one - But I it's finally posted, it ended as I wanted it to and hopefully it's not gonna have to be rewritten again ! .. 
> 
> What thoughts have you about this one ? .. - Comments appreciated ..


	8. The Second Cabin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They are somewhere else and Dean meets the man's colleague ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a little late - muse problems .. But I hope that's okay ..

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   When Dean woke up again, he didn’t remember where he was. The car was driving on a bumpy road. The rough, springy tilt and trashing movement of the rustling vehicle, the bumps, the sound of branches cracking under the wheels and wet dirt hitting the bottom of the truck, woke him up.

    Everything had gone dark, he couldn’t see anything, he couldn’t open his left eye at all and it felt like the eye had tripled in size. His right eye was full of liquid he wasn’t sure what was and for a minute he panicked. He didn’t know where he was, how he got there, why it was so dark or what had happened to him. He just knew his whole body hurt, it was dark and he was shoved around to every movement of whatever he was laying on.

    Besides being trashed around, he found that he couldn’t move much, his left arm was bound to something and his body hurt like hell and felt heavy as lead.

    In his panic he shivered and tried weakly but stubbornly to lift his right hand and feel for any clue. He was startled when he hit the lid above him, and then placed his palm flat on it. Though he slowly began to remember, it wasn’t all there. Bits and pieces of memory popped up in his head, but it all just floated together in a puddle of flashes. There wasn’t much coherency in it at all – until he turned his head left and his eye caught on something.

    It was a slim line, a little glint of light. _‘The crack by the lid!’_ He thought in realization, and everything came back to him in that second, the panic stopped and he went all tense, then limp.

    Dean remembered every horrible thing that had happened and he kind of regretted remembering it all again. His eye filled up with tears he would never allow to leave his eye and he closed it to will them away. He remembered it all damn clearly; how he was beaten and dragged along, how he was manhandled and how he was… violated. It replayed in his head. Clearly. So damn clearly.

    He was still pretty hazy, though, and his head throbbed. The bumpy movement of the truck only made it worse. Not only the haze and the throbbing in his head, also the soreness and the throbbing of the rest of his body – his face, his eye, his back, his side, his rolling stomach, his hips, his knee, his ankle, his… ass… He just really hurt, inside and out. He couldn’t think of anything that would help the slightest. Only to put his free hand under his head to stop it from bouncing on the trucks floor, so the hand would take the worst impact of the bumps to his skull.

    He felt groggy. He felt sore, mad and exhausted and a whole bunch of other feelings swam in his heart and mind. And after the violation of his ass… well. He’d gotten some feelings he wasn’t willing to exploit. He had never had any feelings like those after any other encounter with any other monster he’d ever met. Well, no other monster he’d ever met before had ever done this, so maybe that wasn’t so strange after all. But he still tried to push the feelings away and not to think about it.

    The car slowed down and Dean couldn’t help but feel relieved that the car didn’t trash him around as hard as it did before. His hand was like a soft pillow under his head on the hard floor, but it still throbbed, so the milder conditions were definitely a relief to him.

    The truck slowed further. Then it slowed to a stop. Dean’s heart raced up a little when he heard the engine go off. His one eye was wide open, and his body tensed.

    It was all quiet until a squeaking sound of a presumably old door broke the silence. The squeaking car door wasn’t far behind and then it was slammed shut again, followed by the friendly greeting sound of the man’s voice and somebody else’s too. Dean just laid still and kept quiet while he listened to them talking.

    The guy laughed. “Gus!”

    The other guy, Gus, also laughed in greeting. “Hey Boss, you made it!”

    “Yes, long time since I saw you last! I’m gone five years and you turn into a man! Haha”

    “I was already a man when you left. But it’s good to see you’ve gotten older too”

    “Haha, it’s good to see you too”

    “So… how was it?”

    “How was what, my little vacation? Gus, its prison, there’s nothing else to say about that”

    _‘Prison? The guy did jail time for something like this before? Weird. Maybe he really is just a person?’_ Dean listened more closely to get as much information about his captivators as possible. _‘It might be helpful to know a little something about my enemies.’_

    “Okay, okay. Just, let me know if you wanna talk.”

    “Talk? I’m not sad about anything. Didn’t happen much. Well, I do have a few good stories, but most of the time it was just boring. I’ll share once we get back to the others, the location haven’t changed, have it?”

    _‘Location? He didn’t say nest, maybe it was stupid to think he could be a vamp anyway. He didn’t get sunburned. Though, he seemed to enjoy the blood. Maybe they are Ghouls then? The location would have a reason to change.’_

    “Hmm. No, the location is still the same. But come on man, I’m your best buddy, you have to tell me before the others!”

    “Gus, you know I hate to repeat myself, you’ll hear it soon enough.”

    “Come on man! You just got out! You can’t just show up looking like that and tell me it was boring!”

    “What this? Haha, no, no, that ain’t prison. That’s Ted’s work, but I got back on him.”

    Dean winced by the memory. _‘Yeah, you got back on me alright, bastard’_

    “Ted? That name’s supposed to ring a bell or?”

    “Right, well… Ted is my catch, he’s in the truck.”

    “What, a little boy did this to you?” Gus said with a mocking tone.

    “He’s fifteen, okay!”

    “Cute how you get all defensive” he laughed.

    “Gus, this one is not like the others.”

    ‘Oh, you have no idea!’ Dean thought, smug and angry.

    “I can see that”

    “No really, I mean it Gus! Wait. Look! Take a look at this”

    “What’s this?... Ted Nut… Nutgen?”

    “It looks like it says ‘Nutgent’, right? Well, Ted claims its Nugent.”

    “What happened to this card?”

    “Ted. He’s smart, that one. The card is fucked up like this because he used it to try to cut off the rope I put on his wrist! Touch the side”

    “What the…?”

    “That little cut’s nothing.”

    “And the…?”

    “Not all the blood’s mine. But you see what I mean? It’s the first time I’ve tried that. At first I threw this card away, it’s of no use anyway, but I just had to show it to you guys. He really put an effort into this.”

    “Waw. So he’s a fighter that one?”

    “Definitely! And he’s a hunter”

    “A Hunter? You mean like…?”

    “Yes! What else do you think ‘hunter’ means?”

    _‘So they know about hunters? The guy didn’t show. Why would he hide it? If they know what I am, they know I know about their kinds’_

    “He’s a little young to be hunting, isn’t he? He was alone when you found him?”

    “Apparently not. Alone? Well, sort of. There wasn’t anyone else around, but he was calling a name, Sammy I think, but I don’t know, it could just have been a dog”

    _‘Sammy! So the guy did hear me! But a dog? Seriously?’_

    “How’d you figured he was a hunter?”

    “He told me… and his gear kind of gave if away” there were a rustling sound.

    “Okay, can’t argue with you there. Nice. Can I see him?”

    Dean froze and closed his eye. He didn’t wanna know his definition of ‘looking’. And the eager ‘can I see him’ made it sound like he was some kind of rare attraction.

    “Not now. We need to get this done and get back to the others, where’s your catch?”

    “In the cabin, I had to wait for you, but I sort of started”

    “You can’t do that, there’s a reason I had to come here!”

    “Relax! Not like that. I just touched a little, tasted a little, that’s all.”

    “The first time isn’t about their pleasure, they need to get that from the start, you know that”

    Dean’s stomach almost turned at that statement. _'The first time?! That means there’ll be more! So he’ll try again? Crap! They couldn’t just eat me? Guess I’m not that lucky’_

    “I couldn’t just sit on my thumbs! It was too tempting!”

    “Okay. It is your catch anyway. You go get her out here so I can finish the job.”

    “You’re the Boss”

    Dean heard the squeaky sound of the old door again and some rattling from the car.

    _‘Her? They are gonna do the same to some poor innocent girl. I have to get out and help her’_ Dean tentatively moved his legs. His leg wasn’t stuck anymore. His ankle was sore, felt raw, but he could move it. His left leg was also moveable; it just hurt a bit more.

    Dean removed the hand under his head and used it to push at the floor to get his body closer to the bound wrist. It hurt and didn’t go as fast as he’d like it to, but he got there. He pulled once, hard at his restraint. He made a silent but strangled noise at the pain. His wrist was chewed so raw by the rope that the flesh was open and he felt new blood seep from it. The mere touch of the rope stung in his wound, but he had to try whatever he could to get free.

    His free hand gently touched the rope, felt it to know how much needed to be done. One of the twisted wires of the rope was cut with the credit card and a second one was full of rope-splinters and some of the threads were broken, but the rope was still tight around his wrist.

    He tried carefully to lift the rope a bit and squeeze his hand out of its grasp, but it didn’t work, the only thing it did was send more pain though his wrist.

    For a moment he froze – he heard the muffled cries and screams from the girl they had captured.

    “You gagged her?”

    “She wouldn’t shut up, what was I supposed to do?”

    “Hm. I could have used that. Maybe I’ll do that sometime.”

    “Well, you ready?”

    “Yes, let me get the condom on and I’ll be ready. Lay her on the porch-floor; I’ll come to you in a minute”

    The girls scream intensified, it was obvious she didn’t want this either.

    Dean could hear the guy open his zipper, the sound was so clear; the man must be standing right beside the truck. Then there was to dunks on the top of the lid, it startled Dean but he remained still, looking wide-eyed at the crack by the lid and listening.

    “Teddy Bear? Have you woken up yet?” Dean didn’t answer. “Hm. Just checking. He must still be out”

    Now the girl screamed and cried even louder than before. There were rustling sounds that made it clear that she was fighting him, followed by a abrupt scream and a moment later a defeated crying. Dean knew exactly what had happened at that moment the anger bubbled up inside him and he let out a low growl and yelled “Let her go, you sons of bitches! Stop! Don’t hurt her, bastards!”

    The men just laughed and Gus said: “So you _are_ awake, we thought you were still out!” The girl screamed once again. “Shut up!” the sound of the slap was loud and she quieted down but didn’t stop crying.

    “Don’t hurt her! Get away from her!” Dean was pounding at the lid with his free hand.

    “Haha, a feisty one you’ve got there Boss!” The voice was getting closer. “What are you gonna do about it, huh?

    “Let me out and I’ll show you, dickface!”

    “Are you _threatening_ me?”

    “So what if I am? I’m gonna kick your sorry assed face into next century If you don’t-“

    Dean was cut off. “You’re gonna do what?” the man laughed so hard he apparently had a difficult time breathing.

    _‘I could also just kill you this way, fucking asshat’_ “What, you don’t believe me? Let me out and you can see for yourself! You won’t even know what hit ya’!”

    The man laughed even harder and when he was able to speak again he said: “you certainly are different from the others, man, hoh I feel like I got punched in the stomach!”

    “Well let me out and I’ll do that for you!”

    “Haha! Boss, seriously, where’d you get this guy?” Gus seemed to walk away again.

    “Come back here and open the damn thing! Don’t walk away from me, son of a bitch! Let me out and let her go, you hear me?” The man just laughed again and ignored him as he kicked and hit the lid.

    They must have taken out the gag in the girls mouth, ‘cause suddenly her scream and cries was much clearer and they told her to shut up. She continued to cry and began to plead. She pleaded them to stop, to let her go and told them she wouldn’t tell anyone if they just set her free. Dean understood her pleas but he also knew they were no good.

    Her pleas went on and a nasty sound of the man’s moans started to fill the air as well.

    Dean desperately tore at the rope on his wrist when he finely heard a few of the threads brake. He wanted it off, he needed to help her. While he struggled with the rope he yelled at them to stop and let her go and so on, calling them names. They just yelled back that he should shut it.

    Eventually the girl stopped pleading them. She was still crying but otherwise she didn’t say a thing. _'Maybe she is too tired now?'_

    After what feels like hours the man’s moans got louder; he was getting close to climax. The girl suddenly screamed of him to stop and cried loudly as the man growled a groan out.

    Dean hit the lid one final time in defeat. After that, there was silence. The only sounds were heavy breathing and muffled cries.

    When they could breathe normally again, she made a unhappy mewling sound And the man spoke: “Gus? Would you get the cloth and that bottle over there for me?” he sounded winded “It’ll be easier once she’s unconscious; I’m too tired now to deal with her too. Thanks.”

    She screamed again, crying: “No!” and then she was silenced. He'd already guessed what made her quiet.

    “Uh, Boss? My car is over there?”

    “Shut up and open the lid for me, will you? I’m gonna bring the both of them and you are going on a supply run”

    “Supply run? Boss we already have all we need in-“

    “Condoms, Gus! You go and by Condoms! Now open the damn lid!”

    Dean almost panicked, but he braced himself before he freaked out and took some deep breaths to calm a bit. Gus was tampering with something at Dean’s right on the top corner of the lid. The rope was as relentless as before and he was starting to feel dizzy. He’d given himself a greater head ache by yelling so much and his throat was dry and sore as the rest of him was. His head hadn’t stopped throbbing and his swollen eye was leaking some kind of liquid. Most of his face felt dry, his skin was tight all over it, it was like dried mud had plastered his whole face, which he thought might actually be part of it too, mixed with blood and what not.

    Gus had moved on to the next corner of the lid at Dean’s right side already. “Maybe now I can get a glimpse of what’s behind door number one”

    “You can get a glimpse, but if it’s me you wanna see, you’ll be disappointed at your choice of door”

    The men both laughed mildly and the right side of the lid sprung open so Dean had to close his eye and turn his face away from the sharp light with a groan.

    “Wow! Fuck! Man, it smells like something died in there!” Now that he thought about it, Gus was right, it did smell awful and he wouldn’t wonder if that was part of what made him feel so ill and sick to the gut.

    The man just told him to move so he could lay the girl down in there and Gus moved on with the tampering of the lid. When the man had asked what he was doing while tieing the girls hand ti the other corner himself, Gus had answered that if the empty side looked like that, he wanted to see what Ted looked like. ”I’m opening door number two”

    The man just let him and mumbled grumpily while securing the girl’s hand.

    It didn’t take long for Gus to open and take off the rest of the lid - he practically threw it off the side of the truck. Dean immediately threw his arm in front of his turned face, with a grunt at the sunlight burning his eye, to shield his face till the eye could readjust.

    Gus instantly grabbed his free wrist and forced it to the side to take a look at Dean’s bashed face while yelling “Look at me!”

    Dean turned his face upwards but was still sort of blinded as his eye was still adjusting. Gus gasped loudly, let go of his wrist and seemingly took a step back.

    “Shit! Holy mother of…! Fuck! Raymond, What the fuck!?”

    _‘That’s some reaction. I thought they were in on this together? I must really look like hell if it can make_ him _lose his shit.’_ Dean’s eye had finally readjusted but his sight was still a bit blurry, _‘But Raymond? His name is Raymond? I was beginning to think it might be Boss'_

    “Relax, Gus! Breathe!”

    “Relax?! Is _that_ how you _got back at him_?! Ray, holy shit, what have you? How did you?”

    “Only partially. He was a royal fucking pain in the ass okay!”

    “That doesn’t make it okay!”

    “Listen, I’ve been in jail, okay? I am angry and I needed to let it out! It’s like therapy!”

    “Therapy?! Look at him! He should probably be on the hospital now!”

    “Yes, you should try it sometime! You know we can’t let him go. Besides we have our own doctor back home!”

    Dean looks at them standing at the rear end. Gus is a little smaller than Raymond, blond, short stylish hair, dark brown open jacket and a red shirt. Raymond had just the black t-shirt on, his short brown hair looked wild and sweaty.

    “That’s not good enough! He might need surgery!”

    “Enough of this! I’m not discussing this with you! We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, okay? I’ll deal with it when we get there. Now get the fucking lid back on it and let’s get the hell out of here!”

    “You better deal with it! Put the damn lid on yourself! I’m out of here!”

    “Where are you going?”

    “I’m going on a supply run!”

    The man picked up the lid as Gus went to his own car.

    “Good. You are buying for me too!”

    Raymond was about to lay the lid above Dean again, but Dean thought _‘Hell no!’_ , turned a bit and kicked the man in the head so he fell. Gus laughed loudly.

    “Weren’t you going somewhere?!” Ray yelled. Gus still laughed when Dean heard a car door open and close. Ray got up again and looked at Dean. “So you think this is funny?” Dean had got a good kick in; Ray was bleeding from the left eyebrow. He leaned in and hit Dean once in the face, again. Dean’s world was swirling around again in great pace and he looked up at the sky to focus, wincing and grimacing. “You don’t smile at me boy!” Dean couldn’t react before another fist was flying towards his face…

    ... It knocked him out cold…

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot talk in this one, hopefully not too much, though ..
> 
> Any thoughts are very welcome ! ..


	9. Company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is still in the truck, only this time he's got the company of a girl. When she wakes she's freaked and Dean calms her down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one was posted late - Work was a bitch and I forgot - Sorry guys ! ..

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***~*~***

   Dean came to very slowly. For a moment he wished he wouldn’t wake up at all, ever, but then he thought of Sammy. He needed to be there for his brother, so he had to keep fighting those bastards and get back to him. No matter how hard it was gonna be, he had to. And it was gonna be hard alright, Dean knew that. He was injured and he had to get free of the rope and get out of the box first, plus he had to save this girl, take her with him. He couldn’t possible let her stay with those perverted psychopaths.

    Dean closed his mouth. It was dry, his lips were chapped and the mix of puke-leftovers and the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times and licked at the walls of his mouth in an attempt to get rid of the bad taste in there and to make it less sand-blown dry.

    He just lay there for a moment, feeling every hurt of every inch of his body. Feeling how exhausted he was, how his head was swimming, how sore he was, and how heavy his body felt, like lead. He couldn’t move a muscle. Even his right eyelid felt heavy and the weight held it closed. Well, that and the dried blood or whatever dried liquid was covering his eye.

    He was bombed out but he couldn’t really sleep. Plus he had to try to get away, so it might be a good idea to stay awake and maybe try to get out of the damn rope at least.

    Then there also were her… If he could just get free of the rope he could help her too. And he knew he didn’t stand much of a chance at running away anyway - he was screwed to hell - but she didn’t seem to be harmed the same way he was, she might actually have a good chance of running away, they just needed to get out.

    She didn’t move. Dean listened to whatever sounds was around him. He could hear her breath. It was normal, steady and relaxed, like when you’re sleeping.

    The other sounds came from the pickup truck or from outside the box they were in. the rumbling of the car, the shifting type of road underneath the wheels, some other vehicles that passed them one way or another. The wind surrounding the car as it drove.

    They’ve been driving for so long. They hadn’t made a lot of stops on this ‘road trip’ so far. Or maybe Dean just wasn’t conscious when they did? He couldn’t really tell.

    _‘Where the hell is he taking us?’_ Dean thought to himself. He didn’t know where they were headed, in which direction - north, south, east or vest? - Or how far there would be to this place. Hell, he didn’t even know how long he’d been out. But he knew they’d been on the road for quite some time, even with the few stops the guy _had_ made. Night has passed, morning too. _‘Shit. I don’t even know what time it is anymore.’_ Dean wondered how long they’d been on the road after he got knocked out.

    He couldn’t tell, so he decided it didn’t matter now, he needed to focus. He needed to find a way out, make a plan, save the girl and he needed to do it fast – if they got to the ‘location’ before they could escape it might be too late. So he tentatively brought his right hand back up to the rope around his damaged wrist, forced his arm to move.

    Dean frowned. There was something over the rope and the wrist, a piece of clothing maybe? He tugged it loose from his wrist and tried to open his eye to see it. He couldn’t open it; the dried blood that was covering it held it closed.

    He put the maybe-clothing down on his chest and started rubbing his eye to be able to open it and see. He didn’t bother to try to do the same with the left eye, he could feel how it was four times bigger than it used to be and knew he wouldn’t be able to open it or see a thing with it.

    He slowly blinked his eye open, little bits of flakes from the dried blood fell in his eye and he had to blink some more just to get it out.

    Dean grabbed the piece of fabric on his chest again and held it near the crack by the lid. He couldn’t see much of it, but what little he could see was white with black lines crossing each other in squares. Most of what he saw, though, had gotten stained with red from his bloody wrist. It was a dishcloth. He put it down on his chest again. _‘The guy must have put it on my wrist to stop the bleeding. Why would…? He’s trying to keep me alive.’_ He didn’t know whether to be relieved or worried at that fact, but at least it worked to his own benefit. It gave him more time.

    He put his hand to the rope to feel how it was and where it was damaged the most. It still stung like hell in the wrist-wound and he hissed lowly at the touch of the rope. It felt raw and slick with blood - the rope did as well. Dean started picking at the threads of the rope with his nails and some of them broke easy. Dean winced at every touch but he let out a relieved breath at the thought that this worked – even though it might be a slow process.

    Minutes passed while he worked on the rope. He was getting somewhere with this, slowly but for now it was his best option.

    He heard the girl beside him stir and let out a heavy breath. He froze and looked towards her. His eye had gotten more or less used to the dark and he could just make out her silhouette, but it was still too dark for both him and her to see more than that. She stirred some more and Dean asked her: “Hey, are you okay?” she didn’t react.

    It was obvious she still was a bit hazy after the guy had made her sleep, she was waking up but she might be confused. Dean silently wished Sam was here right about now; he was great with people and the talking, even in his age.

    At least she was decent company. It was actually kind of nice having company that didn't beat you or anything, these past hours had been pretty tough, and this girls company was much to prefer over that guys company.

    Rethinking it he actually wished neither one of them had been here and was glad Sam wasn’t, _‘This is a terrible situation, it is hard enough as it is. At least I don’t have to worry about Sammy too… Or do I? He was gone when this guy came along… No. No, Pastor Jim had found him, he called me, he’d found us both and he’s on his way to get me. I just need to slow the bastard down and help the girl. He’ll find us.’_

    She groaned and lifted her free hand to her head while complaining of a mild headache. Dean thought: _‘Well screw you, it’s just a headache, it is nothing, get over it!’_ but really he didn’t blame her. She wasn’t as battered as he was, but she was still a victim and none of this was her fault.

    “Hey, hey, are you alright?” Dean tried again.

    “What?” she sounded tired.

    “Are you alright?” Dean asked once more.

    “I’m… who… Wh-where am I?”

    Dean had no answer that would in any way comfort her and he didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything.

    “Why is it so dark? Is it night?”

    Dean thought: _‘To hell with it’_ ; she needed to know and she would find out sooner or later anyway. “We’re in the guy’s pickup truck, the lid blocks out the light… I _think_ it's still day.”

    She laid her left hand back down on the floor and asked “What?” like she hadn’t heard him at all.

    Dean took a deep breath and asked her how she was feeling. She lifted her hand again and it hit the lid. “What is this?” she started to sound more awake as she padded at the lid with her palm to find something to open it with, like a doorknob or something. “Where am I? What is this?” her voice was a little raspy like Dean’s also was, her tone was a bit whiney and Dean assumed she was remembering little bits.

    Her hand was flailing tapping across the lid above them, he knew she was about to panic, so in an attempt to calm her down a bit, he gently, with a soft hand, grabbed her hand and gave it a light squeeze.

    That seemed to have startled her, ‘cause she suddenly screams and yells at him to let go and not to touch her. She screams again and Dean let’s go of her hand, knowing that he failed in trying to calm her down.

    She tugs at her restraint on her right wrist and is suddenly in a full panic; she is screaming, jerking and flailing uncontrollably. Her legs are kicking at the lid like her free hand is drumming on it as well.

    “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Easy there! Relax!” She starts sobbing in-between her screams but only gets more desperate in her hammering at the lid. “Whoa, calm down!”

    Dean tries to grab her hand again, but he can’t get a grip. She then turns her panic towards him; she screams even louder into his face, turns a bit and kicks him hard at the legs and her flailing hand lashes out for him and hits him several times; hit’s his arm and hand, hits his face so he grunts and has to turn it away, and finally she hit’s his right ribs and makes him yelp and groan brokenly at the ache shooting through him.

    Dean folds his free arm across the hurting area crawls as far away from her as possible and shouts: “STOP! STOP IT GOD DAMN IT!” Pitifully he yelps in pain again as she gets another good hit in on his ribs side and then she stops.

    They are both panting, him more heavily than her, she’s sobbing uncontrollably but tries to calm enough to speak. Dean is laying pressed up against the side of the box they’re in, arm laying protectively over his side, head turned away from her and bowed down, he is just curled up as much as possible as he lays pressed against the wall, on his side, while actually trembling all over his body at the ache, begging her whimpering to “Just stop already” and clenching eye and teeth shut.

    He realizes she has stopped, and relaxes a tiny bit himself. In relief he lets out a heavy breath. “I liked you better when you were passed out” Dean breathes out.

    She is still sobbing wildly. Her screaming is replaced with crying and she isn’t flailing around anymore.

    Dean slowly rolls back onto his back and groans quietly at the ache of the movement. He just lies there, panting, for a moment. Then he turns his face to the right where she is laying. He thinks for a brief moment of what to say but then settles on: “Thanks for stopping… I’m sorry I startled you”

    Her sobbing doesn’t lessen one bit. It gets a bit worse.

    “Hey, it’s okay. I’m not gonna hurt you.” She cried a bit more at that like she didn’t believe him. “Calm down, breathe…”

    “N-N-N-N-No” She sniffled in between her sobs.

    “I promise you, I won’t hurt you. You don’t need to be afraid of me.”

    “Y-Y-Y-You-Y--“ She gave up trying to answer and her sobs worsened.

    “Shhh-shhhh… You don’t have to say anything... Just breathe…”

    She didn’t calm much, but as little as it was, it was still a start.

    “My name is Dean… We're in the same boat, don’t fear me. Shhhhh… Just breathe… take a deep breath” Dean talked to her in a mild voice he hoped she would find soothing enough to calm her.

    He could see the shaky silhouette of her head nod a bit and then she did as he told her; she took a deep, shivering intake of air and held it in, which made her make strangled hiccup-sounds.

    “Good… good, now let it out slowly”

    She did, and her sobs lessened a tiny bit.

    “Good, another one; take a deep breath”

    She sobbed some more but then did as he said, and inhaled.

    “…And let it out… You’re doing great… One more time…”

    She nodded again followed by a whining agreeing sound.

    “Breathe in” he said in time with her breath, “And breathe out” Dean Found himself breathing with her. _'Huh. I'm actually kind'a proud... This shit really works. Man, I'm awesome'_

    Eventually she’d calmed enough that her sobbing almost had disappeared.

    “You alright?” Dean asked her, still in the soothing voice.

    “N-No… But I’m a b-bit better n-now…” she answered quietly.

    “Okay, good…” Dean answered calmly, “What’s your name?” She hesitated. “It’s okay if you don’t wanna tell me. You remember my name?”

    “No… S-sorry…”

    “It’s okay. My Name’s Dean”

    She seemed to be thinking about something. Then: “M-My name is… My name is Emily”

    “Hi Emily, nice to meet ya’” Dean tentatively took her hand again and when she didn’t withdrew, he gave it a soft squeeze in greeting.

    “Hi… Dean…” she sniffled and giggled a little and squeezed back his hand in greeting.

    When he was about to let go of her hand again she squeezed it a bit more, silently telling him that she needs this just for a while, so he holds her hand.

    For a while they don’t say anything. It doesn’t hold forever though, and soon they begin to talk. Dean didn’t have to ask what happened or how she was taken, even if he’d wanted to, she started telling him herself. She explains how she was walking, lost in the woods and had forgotten her cellphone at home but needed to call her parents to let them know she was okay and that this guy, Gus, had showed up, offering her to borrow the phone at his cabin.

    “I didn’t get more than two minutes on the phone before he pulled the plug, I didn’t get to tell them where I was.”

    “What did you get to tell them?”

    “Um. I-I told them I was okay, that I had borrowed Gus’s phone. They mostly yelled at me in the phone so I-I didn’t get to s-say much” she started sobbing a little again.

    “It’s okay, just breathe…” Dean soothed her.

    “The-Then he... He pushed me into the wall and turned me around…” She took a deep breath and let it out again, “He cursed and s-said he hadn’t any more… C-condoms…”

    She sobbed heavily for a moment and Dean squeezed her hand to calm her and let her know he was right there. She continued after another deep breath.

    “He pushed m-me down on the bed and tied me up. He just let me lay there while he called that R-R-Ray-guy. He was watching me so I couldn’t go anywhere without his knowing.” She was trembling at the mentioning og his name and sniffled.

    “He talked to me the whole time after that and gaged me… h-his hands were everywhere. And he licked me… Then R-Ray came, and he-he-he-he—“ She sobbed and started crying again.

    “Shhh, it’s alright, I know the rest - you don’t have to tell me… Shhhh… It’s okay, you’re okay…”

    “No I’m not okay… and all this is not okay, Dean. I was ra-… They- I – It’s just not okay!” she really cried hard now and squeezed Dean’s hand as hard. He had no idea what to do but then squeezed her hand back softly and “Shhh’ed” her calmingly and asked her to take several deep breathes. When she finally calmed down she was so exhausted after all the fear and crying and the trauma she’d been through.

    “Shhh. I’ll get us out of here, I promise.”

    “Y-You… have a plan?”

    “I’ll think of something, don’t worry, I’ll get you home. It’s gonna be okay.” Dean was saying it as much to himself as to her, he didn’t know how yet, or if he really could do it, but he sure as hell was gonna try, and he tried to convince himself, and her, that he could do it. “You’re exhausted… try to get some shut-eye, we might not have time for it later.”

    “But what about-“

    “Don’t worry, I’ll figure it out… get some rest.”

    She was tired so she gave in. “Goodnight Dean”

    “Night Emily.”

    He held her hand for a little while - just till he was sure she was asleep – then he let go of her hand, softly palmed his sore ribs and strangled a whimper before he tentatively stretched his arm up above his head and worked the rope again. His body aches even more now and he really struggles to keep focused on the rope.

    After a while, Dean closes his eye. He’s very tired too and his body is one big spot of agony. Even the very tips of his right hand's fingers were prickling and starting to sting a little. The rope was rough on his skin.

    Soon Dean felt the road shift under the wheels. It got a bit bumpy again and branches cracked again under the weight of the truck. It didn’t feel like there were holes or big bumps on this road, but Dean was sure they were in some forest again.

    A thought crossed his mind; most of the stops had been in the forest so far; the first cabin, the layby, the second cabin and he guessed this place too. This place might be the last stop, the man, ‘Ray’, had already slowed the truck down a bit, it might not be very far. He had to come up with a plan fast, but the fact that it was in the forest might work for their benefit. He and Emily might have a chance to run away and he could cover their tracks.

    Suddenly they were driving up hill and both he and Emily were sliding down towards the foot-end. They both cried out as the ropes around their wrists stopped them in their tracks. She whimpered pitifully at the tug of her arm and complained. Dean hissed in pain and tried forcefully to strangle the grunts that left his mouth anyway and the cries of pain he succeeded to strangle.

    His wrist ached more than ever and he felt the blood trickle down his arm and heard a couple of drops hit the trucks floor. When he forced himself back to focus on the rope, he realized the last bit of the second wire had sprung up, it must have snapped, the weight must have broken it when they slid down the floor.

    “I think this might be the last stop…”

    “What? Oh, God No! I want out of here! God! Oh my wrist!” she whimpered and started to cry in panic.

    “No, keep calm! Shhh, It’s gonna be okay, okay? Breathe!” Dean hurried through the calming of her and she was more or less calm even though she was scared. “Listen to me! I know you’re pretty much freaked out right now, but you need to push that fear away and listen to me, okay? You have to do exactly as I say!”

    She seemed to do as told and forcing herself to focus on his voice.

    “Good. Okay, so… here’s what we’re gonna do: we lay low and do nothing as he take off the lid, when he free our wrist’s I’m gonna make a diversion and you run as fast as you can, don’t run down the road, run in between the trees and don’t look back…“

    “Is that your plan?”

    “Yes, that’s my plan! Please do tell me if you’ve got a better Idea!”

    She glided towards his side of the floor as they felt the truck drive in some kind of big circle.

    “No, I don’t…”

    “That’s what I thought. Listen: When you get out of the forest, you keep going and you find the police. Don’t talk to anybody else about this, just find a cop. Get a lift if you can, but just get as far away from here as you can, don’t let him get you.”

    “But what about you? I can’t – If I run, you –“

    “Don’t think about me! I’ll distract the guy and you run like hell, do you understand me?” Dean put on a rough edge to his tone that made him sound a bit like his Dad he thought, but it was necessary and it often helped him to focus when his farther used it.

    “I can’t leave you! I can’t do this on my own! I'll be alone!”

    “You have to! Don’t think about me, I’ll be okay. I know you’ll be okay too; you just have to trust me! If you do as I say you’ll be fine! Trust me!”

    “But-“

    “No ‘but’s. I say run; you run!”

    The truck finally stopped driving in the big circle and a few moments later it stopped entirely.

    “You get that? You understand what to do?”

    Her voice was tearful and cracking as she said: “Yes, I Understand” and she cried again.

    Then they heard the car door squeak as it opened and they both held their breaths in anticipation of what was to come and what they had to do…

***~*~***

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've also written my second story ! .. It's called "One Of Those Special Nights". It's one chapter only, still young Sam and Dean, but it's not in the same category as this one though; it's for the general audience, so everybody can read it if they want to .. I'd be be happy if some of you'd read it and comment on it .. Beforehand Thanks ! ..
> 
>  
> 
> What do you think you'd do if you woke up in a dark box ? ..
> 
> Any thoughts ? ..


	10. Trust Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Emily has to adjust their plan a bit when they find out that there are yet another man to help Raymond, and Dean ask's her to trust him in his belief that they can do it, but can they keep it together and will their readjusted plan work ? ..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry again guys ! .. This got delayed more than expected .. The next future chapters might be as well - just a heads up ! ..
> 
> My first 10th chapter ! .. Waw, this story has been here 10 weeks (and some days), ain't that something ? .. ;D

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***~*~***

    After a little while where nothing happened, Emily and Dean slowly let out the breaths they were holding. They were still completely quiet, or as quiet as they could be… Emily’s breath was shaky and she worked hard on not to cry. Some small sobs left her anyway, but otherwise she didn’t make much noise. Dean's breath was heavy but only audible to him and Emily.

    Dean just laid there and listened. Taking notes of every sound that got to his ears. There was her breaths and minor sobs. There was a slight drumming sound that Dean found out was her hand shaking against the cold, nasty floor of the truck, so he took her hand and gave it a little squeeze to calm her and stop the annoying noise. She squeezed back his hand, hard, but it seemed to ground her somehow. Other than that, and his own heavy breath – heavier than he wanted it to be, but the ribs didn’t exactly make that easy for him – he could hear some birds, but nothing more than that.

    Well at least not until he herd some far-away-door and the likewise far-away-sound of wooden steps being stepped on and a laugh getting a bit louder a moment later as it got closer.

    “Ouh” Emily exclaimed and whimpered a bit at the slight tip - down and back up - the truck made in her side (The man must have finally gotten out of the car), followed by the smack of the car door closing and the man, Ray, laughing before greeting yet another guy who did the same thing – laughing and greeting.

    “Ray! My man! Ha! You’re back, good to see you again!”

    “K.O.! Haha, it’s good to be back. Are you the only guest at my welcome-home party or did I come too early?”

    _‘”K.O.”? What the hell? He died too many times in a video game or something?’_

    “No, no, the others will come; they should be on their way back and…“

    - Dean didn’t hear any more of their conversation, it became background noise because Emily suddenly whimpered and quietly started crying and subbing again. “De-e-ean! Wh-What do we do? N-N-Now there i-is two of them!”

    “Shhh! Easy, Emily – Breathe deep. Okay, so there is one more, doesn’t change much…” _‘Although it might’_ , “… We’ll just have to readjust the plan a little.”

    “But if there are two… – Oh God! - We’ll never make it!” she cried.

    Dean squeezed her hand a little harder to make her focus. “Emily, we can do this! Trust me!”

    “No, I can’t- they-“

    “Emily! Breathe deep!... Good. There might be two of them but there are two of us too!”

    “But how ar-“

    “We’ll kick their asses – _that_ ’s how!”

    “What?! But I-I-I-“

    “Shhh! Listen; the plan is the same, there’s only a few changes. We’ll be cooperative at first and get free of the ropes. That’s when we get to the new part: When our ropes are off I will knock out the one who undo’s my rope and you have to do the same with the other guy. From there the rest is the same and you run”

    “You want me to what? I c-can’t do that!”

    “Yeah, you ca-“ Dean stopped abruptly mid-sentence because of the thud on the top of the lid, and he and Emily froze for a minute.

    “Good to know… Well, these two we have to get inside, will you help me with that?” Ray said.

    “Yeah, ‘f‘course!” the other guy, ‘K.O.’, answered and went to the other side of the truck and they both continued talking while they tampered with the corners of the lid. Everything went really fast after that, or at least it felt like it did.

    “Emily, listen to me now: we have to do this before it’s too late!”

    “But I can’t!” she cried.

    “Yes! Yes you can, Em! Just trust me, okay? You either have to hit or kick this guy till he falls, I’ll do the rest from there and you run. I’m gonn-“

    “No, I really can’t, De-“

    “I’m gonna touch you on the spot’s you have to hit him now, okay? – I’m _not_ groping you.” Dean tentatively loosened his hand from hers, then let go of her hand and she made a panicked whimper “Still here, I’m here – Not gonna hurt you” Dean touched her head and felt his way to the spot. He placed his fingertips on her temple-point and said: “You either hit him here…” he moved his hand swiftly to her stomach just under where her ribs met and she whimpered again, “…or here. If that doesn’t pan out you kick him in the balls, get it? Emily!”

    He was talking hushed so only he and Emily could hear him, and so fast he wasn’t sure if she could follow him at all, but the men outside were already tampering with the last two corners of the lid.

    Dean grabbed her hand again and asked her if she’d heard him, heard what he’d said. She whimpered her answer and sniffled between her following words: “Yes. I- h-heard you. But I can’t- I-I’ve never-“

    “Just hit as hard as you can, you aren’t getting away otherwise.” She whimpered but didn’t comment and Dean got a feeling she wouldn’t do it. “We’re both gonna do it, Emily. You have to do it to have a chance to get away.” Dean softly glided his thumb over her fingers to calm her. “Trust me. If you wanna go home this is the only chance we get. You’ll be fine, okay? I promise. Just trust me on this.”

    She sobbed some more but didn’t say anything.

    “Do you trust me?”

    She was silent for a second. “Mhmm. Yeah I do.”

    “Good. I trust you too. So will you try?”

    “Y-Yes.” She sobbed and sniffled again.

    “Good, I know you can do it. I’ll be here the whole time, you’re not alone.” Dean gave the hand a brief squeeze and slid his thumb calming and comforting over her fingers again. “It’ll be alright”

    “Thanks Dean” she whispered.

    The lid opened up a bit at her side and Emily screamed, but then it slammed back down again followed by a coughing from the other guy, K.O. who exclaimed: “Wow! Eww, shit man, what the fuck have you soiled this thing with? – Dead fish and the guts from a dog?!”

    _‘Close enough’_ Dean thought, partly amused but not much.

    “No! Just _shut up_ and help me do this! And don’t worry, I’ve got the boy”

    Then the lid was folded on the middle, open to her side, lifted off and put down on the ground to his side. They both squinted at the new amount of light and listened as they waited for their eyes to adjust. She whimpered.

    “Holy shit, what happened to him?!”

    “I did.” There was dead silence, but the silence was only brief.

    “Aww, how sweet. Look at those two lovebirds!”

    Then Dean heard a shocked gasp come from Emily and she nearly withdrew her hand. Dean held her hand tighter to ground her and make her focus on the task. To his surprise she started crying even more, louder than before, but she didn’t let go of his hand, not even when he turned his face to look at her.

    _‘Waw’_ Dean thought, ‘cause she was beautiful. _And_ she didn’t look harmed at all – which a tiny part of him was a bit jealous of - Not harmed at all. You know; her wrist, tears, sad-, frightened eyes and the knowledge of what happened to her aside. _‘At least she didn’t get the same treatment as I did’_

    Her hair did look a little roughed up, but it wasn’t much; most of it was straight and looked smooth like silk or something. The color of it was something between light brown and dark blond. Her skin was softly toned and her eyes, though full of tears, had a spark of something in them, the eyes were deep green with just a bit golden and brown in the middle, surrounding her pupils.

    “Oh God!” her voice got squeaky and she panted. More tears ran from her eyes. “Did they-? Did he-?” she whispered to him with horror in her eyes and sobbed.

    It dawned on him that his injuries might make her doubt whether the plan would work or whether he would be able to carry it out. “It’s okay, I’m okay, don’t think of me” Dean whispered back to her and clenched her hand. “Remember – don’t look back” he whispered even lower, but still so she could hear him. She looked scared and cried harder.

    Ray and K.O. was laughing so hard at Emily’s reaction that they didn’t hear them. “She didn’t know? How long have she been in there with him? Fuck, Ray. That face: Priceless! Haha!”

    Then Ray started to open the rear end, while K.O. walked up by her side and started to unbind her wrist, and they kept talking about Dean and Emily like they wasn’t even there.

    This guy looked normal as well as Gus and even Ray. Tall, not bad taste in clothes, blue eyes, a gold ring in his left ear, trimmed stubble around his mouth and over his chin, and short, black, wavy hair that was combed back.

    _‘Is it really possible they could just be humans? But why would they wanna do this? Why do this insane thing to other people? … They are crazy’_ Dean decided, _‘I don’t get this - I don’t get them’_

    Then Emily’s hand was free of the rope, but replaced with K.O.’s hand. She was shaking all over and crying and sobbing like a scared child. As she got up from the floor there was a low sticky noise. Dean watched with surprise and confusion as K.O. helped her to sit op and guided her down from the truck to stand on the ground, like a gentleman. A freaking _gentleman._

    At the same time Ray had walked up beside Dean, standing on the ground. Dean flinched in shock as he hadn’t seen him coming when he began to speak to Dean: “Now it’s your turn, Angel. Oh, I scared you there? Haha, doesn’t take much, huh?”

    “Stop calling me that! You should really just drop the name calling or fluffy smut thing or whatever it is you do, ‘cause you really suck at it!”

    “Wait – You’ve been calling him ‘Angel’ the whole way?” K.O. cut in; obviously amused.

    “It was heavenly, okay?!”

    Dean groaned low at the turn of conversation and in pain as he readjusted his left wrist.

    “What, this embarrasses you?” Ray asked. Dean didn’t answer, just closed his eye for a moment and opened it again.

    “Heavenly? Ray, don’t tell me you couldn’t get laid in those five years, there must have been plenty of opportunities!” K.O. said laughing.

    “No, I did, it’s just… most of them had been used for so long they weren’t even tight anymore, and those who were – K.O. I’m telling you: None of them was as tight as this sweet ass here, not even her. It was _Heaven_ I tell you!”

    “Waw. Waw!” K.O. looked surprised and looked from Ray to Dean. He stared for a moment while holding Emily still by the wrist and her left shoulder. “You’re really something.”

    “Fuck you!” Dean spat at him.

    “Yeah, you can forget it!” Dean frowned at that and quirked his brow as he looked up at Ray above him resting his hands on the trucks side. _‘Did he just defend me?’_ “…He’s mine” He said and looked down at Dean with a creepy smile that made his stomach turn and tighten and Dean went more tense than he already was. _'Right... Not defending'_

    “Okay, fine, but you really have to wait with that, you know what Hench will say, right? He might even want you to get a new one, you know?”

    “Yeah well, fuck Hench, _he_ can go get a new one and he don’t get to put this one down”

    _‘Is he seriously talking about killing me? Put down? What am I – a dog?’_

    “Ray look at him! He just arrived and you’ve already damaged the goods!”

    They started fighting verbally and Emily didn’t look too comfortable with it. She was already crying, now she whimpered and trembled like a cold, wet puppy. Dean caught her eyes, they seemed to silently ask if it was time, so he shook his head slightly and unnoticed by Ray and K.O.. They still had eye contact and he tried to silently calm her down with just the look in his one eye. It seemed to work at first, but then her eyes traveled from Dean’s battered face to the trucks floor and she cringed and almost fell to her knees with a sob.

    Dean didn’t blame her. It looked grotesque and she’d just been laying down in that… Dean was still laying in it.

    K.O. huffed out an agitated breath and steadied her. “Ray Just shut the fuck up and untie him so we can get inside, the others will be here soon and you can discuss it with Hench then! Besides, this one is shaking; we don’t need more of them sick.”

    “Yeah, all right, all right! I’ll-” he cut himself off and looked surprised down at Dean, from his wrist to his face and back again. Dean frowned back up at him. “How the hell did you get loose?” he said with an open mouth.

    “What?” Dean hadn’t even noticed himself, he couldn’t really feel his hand anymore but his wound stung like a bitch. Nothing new there so he hadn’t noticed he had wriggled it out from the now loose rope after the other strings broke. _‘I’m free?’_

    “Wha- He got loose, Ray?”

    “How the fuck did you get out of that, you little worm?!” Ray shouted at Dean and grabbed his throat in a tight grip and held him down.

    “Ray! Don’t kill him, man!”

    Dean made a strangled noise and Emily screamed. Dean’s right hand clawed at Ray’s left hand around his throat, and the left, bloody hand flew into the man’s face before he could grab it. That made him grunt and sneer at Dean. Ray finally caught Deans left arm, but it was on his sore, sore wound and Dean let out a gasp and a short cry that got strangled by the hand on is throat. And since Ray (Who was bent down over him) couldn’t take a hint to adjust his grip on the wrist, Dean curled his right hand to a fist and punched him in the face as hard as he could with the ache throughout his body, and Ray actually let go of Dean and fell to the ground while Dean coughed and gasped for air and held his chest in pain.

    “Wow, Ray!”

    “Now!” Dean tried to shout to Emily with his rough, hoarse voice through his sore throat, but it didn’t come out that way – more like a raw and very loud whisper.

    It seemed like Emily got it though. She straightened herself up and swiftly turned around so her hair swung at the speed she turned with. But then she stopped to glare at K.O. who glared surprised right back at her. The moment passed apparently and she kneed him right in the sack. Dean cringed at the sight as K.O. fell to his knees with a pained out-of-breath sound.

    But Ray growled and was back on his feet again. _‘Shit!’_ Dean thought when he turned his head to look up at Ray. Ray obviously knew to keep his distance, but he seemed a bit wobbly on his legs as he swayed a bit while trying to catch Dean’s wrist and neck again. His hand got a hold on Deans t-shirt and the hand was fisted in a tight grip in the dirty, mud-dry-crunchy fabric.

    Now Dean growled low in his throat and swung his right leg and hit Ray hard in the face so he went down again. Dean grunted in pain, even his _ass_ hurt at that kick, and he squeezed his eye shut for a moment. Then he thought of Emily and did his best to push all that away and focus on helping her, and luckily Ray didn’t seem to be getting up, to Dean’s great relief.

    He looked in her direction just in time to see her kick the man, who was doubled over on his knees, in the head so he fell to his back. K.O. was groaning weakly and Emily turned around, with her hair swinging in the air, towards Dean.

    “Hit him in the head, the spot I showed you.” Emily hesitated. “Now!” Dean said and tried to sit up but fell back down when the tears in his ass sent ridiculously painful jolts through him again. He bit his lip, closed his eye and braced himself a second. Then he took a deep breath, opened his eye and stubbornly ignored his ache and tried again to sit up. There was that sticky sound again as he got up and the jacked ripped loose from the tacky floor. _‘Was it like this before?’_ He’d noted the clingy-ness of clothes to himself and the floor somewhere in the back of his head – but he hadn’t really noticed the gross, sticky noise before. _‘Maybe I’d ignored it? -Overheard it?’_

    He almost got to sit upright, ignoring his ass and his ribs as much as possible, just enough to see Emily set her knees on the man's chest and knock him out. Then Dean’s head went a bit fuzzy and swirled a bit again. He tried hard to focus and wait for it to pass.

    He herd Emily’s sobbing voice ask if he was dead, if she had killed him. Dean closed his eye and told her to feel the pulse and heard her giggle with relief. “I can’t believe I did that! I knocked him out, did you see? I rock! We did it, Dean! We-“ Dean opened his eye again to see that Emily had turned back towards him, muted by whatever she saw.

    It all seemed worse now, everything spun faster around him, he couldn’t focus on anything and suddenly the gross floor rushed up towards him and he was lying down again – seeing the nasty, tacky truck floor, Emily and a lot of tree’s spinning, but slowly steadying.

    “Dean!” Emily was screaming, it sounded like she was far away, and she lunged herself towards him in slow-motion.

    “Dean! Dean!” She obviously didn’t know what to do with herself. She ran a soft hand through his hair and he closed his eye. He felt sick. “Dean! No! Don’t leave me alone!” Sound fell in and out but slowly started to get back to normal “Don’t leave me alone with them! I don’t know what to do! Please don’t leave me!” She cried and shook his left shoulder.

    That was what made him realize he was laying on his right side because it hurt like hell and sent a burning ache through him. Only a moment later when she was chanting “Sorry! Oh, Sorry!” over and over again, he heard himself groan and wail in pain.

    He clenched his eye and jaw shut and stopped his pained sounds. _‘Pull yourself together, you idiot, and stop being such a girl about it! Oh, God it hurt’s! No. No, I need to do this - for her at least… God I’m such a baby, this is nothing! I can do this, I can! I have to be strong for her… I have to!'_ he scolded himself and tried to get it together. _‘For God’s sake! I have been through so much crap already, I’ll be damned if I can’t do this!’_

    And so Dean opened his eye and with gritted teeth he grunted and tried to get up. He must have turned to his back, before. He got to his elbow on his right side again and said “Help me get up” with a strained voice and heaving breath.

    Emily grabbed his right arm and helped him to sit upright. Dean forced himself to push it away as much as possible, but he still winced and grunted at the pain.

    When Dean was sitting up, his breath was so heavy he started to worry a bit about it himself. It wasn’t normal to be panting like that and feel such a lack of air.

    “Dean, are you okay?” He turned to see Emily’s pretty, worried face, still wet with tears. He could see the fear in her eyes.

    “Thanks.” Dean started to smile at her “You’re tough – knocked him out cold the third time – Nice job” She stared at him like he was insane “I knew you could do it” He said and widened his smile a bit. She still stared at him. “Would you quit staring? I’m actually praising you here” she blinked and her cheeks turned red “You did what I asked you to, you were very brave”

    She looked him in the eye and said: “I trusted you”. They were both silent for a second. She had done it because she had put her trust in him. He didn’t know what to say to that. Dean looked her in the eyes, there were something there, didn’t know what it was, but it was there. He still didn’t know what to say.

    She carefully put her hand to his bloody forehead and held it there for a moment while Dean frowned but couldn’t help leaning into it. She removed it and giggled at him briefly.

    “We need to leave.” She said and then added: “And you need a doctor.” She sniffled.

    “Ptssh!” he huffed “I don’t need a doctor, I’m fine!”

    “Argh! So typical _men_!” she sighed but grinned.

    “What?” he chuckled but stopped pretty fast ‘cause _that_ hurt in the chest. _‘Maybe I **should** see a doctor? No, Pastor Jim can help me when I get back, it’ll have to wait anyway’_ “But you are right about one thing: We should get out of here. Those ugly asshat’s are not gonna stay down for long, we need to hurry.”

***~*~***

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Question : ..  
> Was it worth the wait ? ..


	11. Feeling Alright?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emily and Dean are free, the two men are down and now they only need to get on their way... But Dean is not exactly well ..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry bout the delay - I did warn you these next few chapters would be late though .. but over a week, shit .. I'll make it up to you sometime ..

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***~*~***

    “Can you get down by yourself or do you need my help?” Emily asked and looked at him, patiently sitting on her heels beside him with tears rolling silently down her face and slightly shaky hands in her lap and waited for his answer.

    Her question registered and he huffed out a breath to brush the question off and said: “I can get down the truck by myself, thank you very much”

    “Okay, come on then!” she said and suddenly she was off the truck and stood on the ground at the end of his feet.

    Dean frowned. _‘How did she do that so fast? No human-… Is she a thing?”_ Dean’s eye widened out, he looked at her, shocked, and he tensed up. “How did you do that?” he asked her.

    “Do what?” she looked like she was confused.

    “ _That!_ How did you get down so fast?” he asked her. He could hear the frustrated tone in his own voice and almost held his breath, but he couldn’t hold it and heaved in a good mouthful of air and panted on. _‘Is she really a monster? She seems so sweet? But nobody is that fast! Nobody **human** anyway’_

    She frowned at him. “I crawled over here and jumped down… you saw it yourself” she answered truthfully innocent.

    _‘Is she trying to hide it now? Why show it in the first place?’_ Dean thought. “No I didn’t” he said, “One minute you were right here, the next you were standing in front of my feet! How did you do that so fast?” Dean’s voice was raspy and a bit deep. He sounded angry.

    His new tone with her seemed to scare her; she flinched at it and took a small step back. “Dean, what are you…? Wait, what? You really didn’t see me get over here?” her frown got deeper and she seemed to be thinking. Then she looked at him, eyes looking at every inch of his face, “Dean, you’ve hurt your head, when that guy beat you… that must be why you didn’t notice me getting down?”

    Dean was about to say something else and opened his mouth but closed it again and thought about it. _‘She might be right. My head is still kind of fuzzy and I feel dizzy and sick to the stomach. Maybe she is right… Or maybe she is trying to trick me into thinking that, giving me a reasonable reason to believe her and using my injury to her benefit? But why would she even bother? She is free, she could just run off with her super speed and I wouldn’t be able to follow her anyway.’_

    “How... badly are you hurt?” her voice was a bit shaky and she swallowed and seemed hesitant to ask.

    “What?” Dean looked at her like he really hadn’t heard her, or like he was surprised that she had asked him. _‘Why would that even interest her if she was a thing? Maybe she is right? Maybe my head is playing games with me?’_ When she was about to repeat herself, he said: “Uh… I- I don’t know…” there was a pause between them. He was still a little skeptical but decided to trust her on this, and when she opened her mouth again he continued: “but I guess I can’t be looking all that great since you have to ask…” Her eyes widened for a second and then she shook it off and said that no, no, he looked fine. Dean smiled at her attempt at not freaking _him_ out more. He was pretty calm about his battered look and all right now – he'd been beaten before and he knew Jim would take care of it later when he got back to the church and he could sleep through the worst, most likely pumped full of morphine and sedatives – he knew he wasn’t looking as fine as he told himself he had to be.

    “(…) really, i-it’s not even that bad!”

    “It’s okay, Em. I know how this must look. But we really need to go, now. Before…” Dean felt sicker for a second, “before those gorillas wake up again.”

    “Are… Dean, are you okay?”

    “Yeah, I’m fine!” Dean swayed a little. _‘Guess this isn’t so convincing’_ Dean suddenly felt a pressure from his stomach and head and a sickness that was pushing up through his throat – he only just managed to lean over the edge of the truck before it spilled out of his mouth and he threw up. _‘Well, that definitely isn’t convincing her that I’m fine’_

    Nothing was quiet in his head anymore, not even his own breath – which was the loudest sound in his head – and the birds were _so loud_. Dean was heaving in his breath in long strained drags; his lungs were not very cooperative at the moment and wouldn’t let him breathe normally, and he kept vomiting over the side of the truck.

    “Dean!” Emily’s way too loud voice sounded again.

    Everything hurt – his head, his chest, his stomach, his burning throat, the rest of his body – he just hurt all over. And all the loud noises and the far-away-noises as well, didn’t make it any better. The sound went in and out again. Dean closed his eye, threw up and concentrated on breathing between the pain and the vomiting.

    “Dean? Are… okay? …think you… I need you… Can you do that?” her voice attacked his ears in waves of being too loud and not loud enough for him to hear. “Dean! We… get away… here”

    Dean pressed his left forearm to his stomach – Careful not to touch his wound of a wrist – and his right hand to his chest and vomited once again. He tried to shut everything else out and just be done with it, but it really wasn’t that easy, there wasn’t anything left in his stomach to throw up, yet he was still hanging his head over the edge of the trucks side, doing just that.

    Emily sounded worried as she called out to him. Dean was so tired. His body felt so heavy and he almost couldn’t hold his own head up. But he couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t lie down. His body clenched in cramps every time he threw up and he was still hurting _everywhere_. And he needed to get as far away from here as possible before the bastards woke up again just to continue what they were doing and punishing him for what he did and taunt him with his weak attempt at getting away. At least that’s what he expected them to do if he wasn’t gone when they woke up.

    Dean almost flinched when he felt a hand at his head, running softly through his hair. Emily talked to him in a soft voice that made him wanna hear more, but he didn’t hear what she said to him, just the tone of her voice and felt the caring fingers in his hair run down to his back and run soothing circles on his shoulder blades to relax him while he threw up.

    When he was done with emptying his insides onto the ground, the pressure was mostly gone - not entirely, though, enough that he started to feel a bit better and closer to normal -, but he still felt nauseas. His left upper arm pressed against the trucks side, the hand was in his lap, the other arm clenched a fist in his shirt and tried to keep it from being too close to his neck so he wouldn’t throw up again right away, and he hung his head over the edge of the trucks side. Finally he opened his eye and looked down at the ground where he’d thrown up. His sight still spun a little, but not as bad as before and not bad enough that he couldn’t see what he was looking at. It was a mess on the ground, a big puddle of grossness with spots of his blood too.

    Then he was looking down at a pair of shoes while he tried to breathe and spit the disgusting taste out of his mouth, a feminine pair of shoes. He hadn’t even noticed when they got into his view so he frowned. Dean looked up and there was Emily again. _‘Oh, right. The soothing fingers and voice... Emily comforted me.’_ She looked so worried. Her eyes and cheeks were full off tears and her forehead was frowned.

    “(…) okay, Dean?” apparently she’d been talking to him. Dean didn’t know how long she’d done that or what she’d said to him. It was like some part of the ‘film’ was missing. That only confirmed that she was right, his brain wasn’t all that clear. “…can you hear me? Dean?”

    It took a moment for her words to register. Dean just stared blindly up at her as her lips moved. Then he blinked a couple of times, reminded that he probably should answer her. “What?”

    “Do you feel better now? Are you okay?” her soft fingers slowly ran through his hair again and he momentarily closed his eye and just enjoyed the feeling. Then the hand disappeared and Emily chuckled at him. She was still smiling at him as he opened the eye again.

    “Yeah… Yeah, I’m okay…” Dean answered with a rough rasping voice. His throat was raw after all that vomiting.

    “Good, good. So… you are good to go? We have to leave. Remember?”

    “Leave…?” Dean’s brain worked slowly. “Right, the asshat’s! We should get you back home, you’re right”

    Emily giggled briefly before she smiled and dried her tears off her face with the palms of her hands, and sobbed. She wasn’t crying anymore, but apparently it was hard to stop sobbing afterwards, since she kept doing that.

    “Of course I’m right. But how are we going to get out of here? – We don’t even know _where **here**_ is! How long do you think they will stay down?”

    It took a minute for her words to reach his brain – everything was either going too slow or too fast in his head right now and he couldn’t think much for the throbbing in his head.

    “What? Uh… yeah, we need to get out of here”

    “Yeah, Dean, but how?” she said in that ‘doh, we just said that’-kind of way. “Where would we go?”

    Dean woke a little. “Anywhere. But we can’t just sit here”

    “Of course. I know that. Hold on a second, I’ll help you down from there” she turned her back to him and was on her way around the truck.

    When she was about to jump back up onto the trucks floor Dean stopped her “Whoa, hey, stop! I can get down by myself!”

    She didn’t move. “Dean, your head is too banged up, I don’t think – “

    “I’m fine!”

    She slowly took a step back and even though she looked pretty skeptical, she just said “Okay” and waited for him to move.

    “Okay” Dean echoed her and blinked. _‘Well here goes’_ he thought. He briefly looked down himself and then let his eye focus on the brink of the trucks floor. He took a deep(er) breath, and panting heavily he put the left elbow on the edge of the trucks side, the right hand onto the sticky floor and pushed.

    He heard Emily take a silent deep breath and hold it. A second later he understood why; he was shaking in instability, he was unconsciously grunting and wincing in pain with his teeth clenched and the tacky floor wasn’t much up for letting go of his pants so that sticky sound was there again.

    He finally managed to get his right leg under him, but it didn’t seem to help all that much. He shook his head once, just to get all of that out of his head so he could focus back on the task. But that head-shake was all it took to get the dizziness back and topple him over sideways. His elbow fell off the edge and he almost fell on his face all the way over the trucks side, the only thing preventing that fall was Emily’s fast reflexes – she had gasped and thrown herself forward to grab his right knee and the bottom of his jacket and she had pulled him back down.

    He was still hanging a bit over the side, but his ass was firmly planted back on the trucks floor. He had closed his eye tight in his dizzy, painful state when he knew he wasn’t gonna fall anyway. He clung to the trucks side and waited for the pain to simmer down a little. His breath was still heavy, worse than before. After a while, he opened his eye and looked down at the ground, where he would have fallen onto on his head if it wasn’t for her. Right down in the puddle from his insides, which he only just now realized also were splattered all over Ray’s left leg. Dean smiled a bit at that. He wasn’t in a state where he could do much to get back at that scumbag, but he’d managed to throw up on him without knowing, well the bastard deserved that much at least. So, yeah, Dean smiled. _‘Taste that, you bastard’_

    Dean looked back over his right shoulder briefly to get a glance of Emily. She had gotten up on the trucks floor beside him, still holding on to him and not saying anything, just panting a bit and looking worried or maybe shocked. Dean looked back down on the ground, at a spot that wasn’t filthy with his stomach-juice.

    “Dean?...” Emily’s mild voice sounded beside him.

    “I - Uhm… maybe - Uh…”

    “What is it Dean?”

    “I think I could use your help anyway…” he said with shame heating his face.

    “Oh? Was it that hard to ask?”

    “If you don’t mind-“ Dean sounded a bit irritated.

    “No, no, of course! Here, I’ll give you a hand”

    She repositioned herself and with a soft but firm hand she grasped his upper arm. Dean kept his head down and winced and grunted as he moved and let her help him down. He leaned on his left elbow on the trucks side again and pushed up. He got his right foot under himself again and used that to lean forward and let Emily take some of his weight to get further. It was hard and his left leg was a bitch to work with. He couldn’t do much with it, it hurt too much. He couldn’t bend it, he could barely move it without having to bide down hard on his lower lip to prevent the muffled sounds from getting louder.

    Finally they were by the brink of the truck and they both sat down. Emily helped Dean move closer to the edge to let his legs hang from it. He hissed and winced. Emily got down and stood in front of him with her arms stretched out towards him. “Come on. I won’t bite”

    “Why are you helping me?”

    “What?”

    “You’re free. They are out for the moment. You could just go”

    “What? Dean, are you-? Wait, you hear that...?" a cars horn honked to tell of someone’s arrival. "Oh, my god – someone’s coming! Dean?”

    Dean looked over his shoulder, there was nothing to be seen but they could hear a car come closer. “We seriously need to go, _now_!” he said and swiftly pushed himself off the trucks floor to jump down and stand on the ground, but that wasn’t what happened. He did jump down from it, but when his feet connected with the ground, he bucked down in a shout of hurt and he just barely got a hold to the trucks floor to stop from falling which didn’t help. What stopped him from collapsing all the way to the ground was Emily’s tight grip around his chest, and that hurt like hell as well.

    Dean was hissing and grunting through clenched teeth in agony but let her help him up again and lean on the truck. _‘Son of a bitch, that hurts! I can’t go with her like this, I’ll only slow her down, I can’t let her get caught again. Shit!’_ His heavy breath was worse; it was harder to breathe for a moment. “You… need to… to leave me…”

    “No, Dean…” she sounded scared and like she was about to panic, “I can’t, I can’t! Not alone! I don’t know what to do!”

    “Emily!” Dean raised his rough voice to shut her up and ground her, “You need to listen to me!”

    “But Dean, I-I-I can’t…”

    “YES… you can! Yes you can, Em!”

    “But I don’t know how! Where-“

    “Take the truck!” the idea just popped into his mind.

    “What?”

    “Get the keys, check that guy’s pockets, he must have them on him” Dean gestured to Ray with a jerk of his head and got slightly more dizzy.

    “But-“

    “Just _do it_!”

    She shakily ran over to Ray’s limp body and went through his pockets till she found them. “Got it!”

    “Good. Now get in the car and go”

    She went back in front of Dean “I really can’t-“

    “Yes you can, get in the car!”

    “I can’t drive!” she yelled, “I haven’t learned yet!”

    Dean stood there with open mouth for a second, then closed it again. 'Right, regular girl without a license’

    “Fine! I’ll drive then!” Dean was about to walk around the car to get to the front, but he almost fell again and Emily prevented his fall again, but dropped the keys to catch him. He hissed and a small flood of swears left his mouth.

    “You can’t even walk and you can barely stand!” Emily sounded like she was about to cry. “What do we do, Dean?”

    Dean grunted, and then he got an idea. “Guess I’ll have to teach you then”

    “Wha- Teach me?!”

    “Help me get to the passenger seat!” Dean said and was about to turn around to go the other way, but she stopped him.

    “Wait! We’ll go this way. That way is too narrow for the two of us.” She said and swiftly but carefully moved in close, under his left arm, sneaked her arm around his waist and took hold of his right hip to support him. “Are you ready?”

    “Let’s do this” Dean answered and braced himself for the pain he knew would come with the movements of the walk.

    They took a few steps and Dean hobbled along. They just turned the first corner when they saw the car driving towards them.

    “Oh my God!” Emily almost whispered.

    “Hurry up!” Dean said to prevent her from freezing to the spot – he’d felt how she’d slowed down –, it worked.

    The other car hit the brakes and glided to a stop. The car door flew open and Emily screamed when she saw who the driver was and began to shake and cry and say “No, no, no” over and over again.

    The driver came into view and didn’t even bother to close the car door, stopped at the corner of his right headlight, apparently shocked at what he saw.

    It was that blond guy from earlier – Gus.

    It was Gus...

***~*~***

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone have a favorit chapter or moment in the story yet ? ..


	12. Chasing Heels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Emily is on the run when Gus is there and starts chasing Emily, knowing that Dean can't get very far that fast. But can she out-run him ? ..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, I am posting Chapter 12 ! ..  
> Sorry it took so long but time is a thing I've only got a short supply of at the time being. I'm still working on the story when I can, though. Slow prosess, but it's there. (;

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    Emily was panicking but still holding on to Dean. She was shaking and crying and wanted to run. Several times she was tugging at Dean and it hurt every time. She stopped moving forward and began to walk backwards, tugging Dean with her.

    The guy – Gus – was still just standing there staring at the whole scene – one of his buddies on the ground, the other out of his view and the two “catches” on the run by the side of the dark pickup truck, backing away in small clumsy steps.

    “Emily, ngh! Get yourself together and go for the front seat, damn it!” Dean mumbled hissing to her, stumbling backwards with her, one limping step at the time.

    She just whimpered something he didn’t understand and slowly kept tugging him stumbling with her, clinging to him like one would to a shield or something and tightening her grip.

    “Calm down and go for the car!” Dean hissed in pain. He grabbed a more solid hold onto the side of the truck and stopped their moving backwards. “Get in the car and lock the door!”

    It didn’t really help, she just shook even more, whimpered and cried and kept tugging more frantically at Dean to follow her backwards. Dean clenched his teeth and eye briefly and then looked at her. Her eyes were locked on Gus and it seemed like she couldn’t look anywhere else.

    Dean took in the sight. He looked from her face, across the big courtyard, where two other cars were parked by the forest line, to where Gus was still frozen to the spot by his cars right front light. Then Dean noticed how Gus’ eyes found and locked on them. Gus slowly closed his hanging mouth and asked both surprised and worried: “Where is Ray?” and then an angry expression slowly took over his shocked features and he repeated his question a tad more angrily. Emily clenched her lips together and whimpered scared.

    “Emily…” Dean said low in voice and tightened his own grip on her in an attempt to ground her and be able to get through to her. “Em, you got to get in the car, you hear me?” he mumbled, holding her close partly in pain to make the hurt stop and partly to make her listen to him.

    “B-B-But-But –“ she stammered.

    “Before he comes after us, Emily, go!” Dean put a little almost non-visible pressure on her to go for it but she didn’t move. “Lock the door”

    “I-I dropped the k-k-keys” she cried mumbling back.

    “What?” Dean felt dizzy and had to close his eye once again.

    “Sorry Dean” she whined.

    “Wha-“ Dean was interrupted by her scream and sudden tugging that almost had him falling on his butt, and he had to open his eye again but needed to blink away the fuzziness and wait for his sight to settle. It felt like a long time to Dean, but it wasn’t more than a couple of seconds.

    Gus had taken a few small steps in their direction and slowly speeded up, taking a bit bigger steps towards them.

    Dean didn’t think when he reacted at this. He just yelled: “Run!” and shoved Emily backwards so she nearly fell, away from him and away from the danger. But it didn’t do himself any good, he collapsed to the ground and lost grip of the truck. It was a bit of a relieve not to be tugged at like she had though. He looked up at the guy, but he’d stopped abruptly in the middle of the courtyard when Dean fell, and now he started moving closer again, totally focused on Emily. Dean looked backwards to see her frozen to the spot. “RUN!” Dean yelled at her with his rough gravelly voice through his still puke-raw throat.

    It got her mind back to focus and she immediately sets in a sprint away from the pickup truck and away from Gus. But Gus changes direction as well and closes in on her.

    “Emily, turn right!” Dean yelled at her and she did right away and ran towards Gus’s vehicle. Gus lost space between them but only slowed down to turn and follow.

    Meanwhile Dean had gotten up on his left elbow and tried to get to sit up and keep an eye at what happened to Emily.

    She got into the vehicle and slammed the door after her, but Gus tore it back open before she could lock it. Emily opened and flew out of the other door followed by Gus who wasn’t far behind her. She screamed and cried while she ran for her life. Then she ran back towards Dean and the pickup truck.

    “No, don’t come back here! Just run!” Dean tried but she didn’t turn direction. _‘Damn it Emily! Just don’t get trapped!’_ Dean thought and hoped she could outrun Gus and somehow get away.

    Something clipped and it was like some time was missing or like Emily and Gus jumped more than ten feet across the courtyard in under a second, cause suddenly they were much closer than before.

    She ran past Dean as fast as she could with Gus in the heels. “No!” she screamed as she turned the corner by the car and the guy, K.O., on the ground.

    Dean turned to look for her, but she wasn’t caught as he had thought when he heard the scream; he saw her shoes run past the next corner and past Ray on the ground. Gus followed close by but he slipped in something, then tripped over Ray’s arm and crashed to the ground - face first.

    Dean saw him get up on his hand and elbow to look at the reason for his fall. Then he turned and looked directly at Dean through under the car; shocked at first, then he turned angry again, sending Dean a mean look but smiled briefly at him. That smile made Deans eye go wide and he froze with a chill running down his spine.

    Suddenly Emily is by his side, grabbing his left upper arm and is helping him up to sit on his ass, ripping his locked eye from Gus’s, while she repeats herself over and over in a crying panicked voice with a few tears running down her cheeks: “Oh God, Oh god! What do I do, what do I do, what do I do?!” when she has placed Dean up against the back wheel of the car, they hear Gus slip and fall again and complain at the nasty puddle that is Dean’s vomit which he slipped and fell in.

    Dean stops hissing and pushes the crying Emily away from him, shouting: “Forget me, run! Take the truck!”

    “But the key-“

    Dean pushes her away again when she tries to help him. “Get the key!”

    “But I-I still can’t drive?”

    “You’ll figure it out! Go!”

    They hear the steps of Gus’s feet and she gets up to stand, jumpy on her feet and jumping from side to side to go the opposite way of Gus. Then she makes a run for it and they run’s out of Dean’s view. Shortly after he hears something crash to the ground, and Gus hisses something about a table.

    Dean doesn’t like that he can’t see what’s going on and tries to stand. It’s not very easy and it turns up the pain. He bites it down, grasps for a hold on the truck and finds it around the wheel where he beside it forces himself up to one knee with his left leg stretched out. He is hissing and panting and clinging to the wheel not to fall because of his on-and-off dizziness. Dean forces himself to continue, stretches his arms up and grabs onto the edge of the trucks side – but it’s hard because his left hand can’t really grab much so he has to use his forearm instead – and he pulls himself up stubbornly till his right foot is firmly on the ground, and clings to the side of the truck with his eye closed in pain.

    He just concentrates on breathing for a moment. Somewhere he can still hear Emily cry and desperate feet clapping over the ground in rushed steps.

    When Dean opens his eye, his breath isn’t much better than before. He slowly lifts his head up. At first he just looks up at the bushes and trees on the other side of the truck. He notices something he hadn’t when he was hurling his guts out; some of the bushes was cut in shapes. Dean frowned at that, ‘cause wasn’t that only in the fine gardens of nice places?

    Dean takes a better look around him. The courtyard is big, but the road Gus came from was not really that broad. The big courtyard melted together with it and got smaller so that only one vehicle could be on it at a time. Along the side of the courtyard was the line of the forest. Tall trees towering over the place in great heights, some places the trees and bushes was standing close together, too close to run through, but other places there was more room between the trees. There was a narrow path - obviously used a lot - between the trees closest to the mouth of the road leading out of there. Dean briefly wondered where that path might take him, but he knew he couldn’t get to it alone in his condition. He needed Emily. And she needed him, she was still running and crying and listening to Gus yelling at her and speaking to her. He couldn't just leave her here. He should distract him so she could get out, but how?

    Dean looked around again and saw a big assed wooden-villa tower above the smaller trees and shaped bushes and the roof of the truck. His eye widened and he looked in awe at the top of the giant cabin behind truck. _‘How did I **not** notice this before? ... What is this place?’_ He felt a little light-headed and his sight swam for a second. He grabbed on tighter to the trucks side and willed it to pass. He needed to do something.

    Clinging to the trucks side he decided to go for it, get into the truck and somehow get the girl when he was seated. Trying to get to the front of the car, he hobbled alongside the truck, clinging to it for stability.

    Dean doesn’t get further than a couple of steps before the sound of Emily, crying and panting, followed by a yelling Gus, comes closer. They Pass Dean and he clings to the cars side as they runs around to the other side where Gus almost falls again but hangs on to the car as well as Dean, and Emily runs to the other side beside Dean. They are back on each their side of the car, both panting heavily. Emily’s cheeks are wet and she is whimpering, but seems to have stopped crying more or less.

    “You can run girl, I’ll give you that” Gus says and stands grunting. “But I’m tired of chasing you ’round. Come to me now, and I promise I won’t hurt you”

    Dean was practically ignored so he briefly glanced at Emily and continued and hobbled closer to the front.

    “Don’t worry; I’ll get your damaged friend later. He won’t get that far” She sobbed and shook her head slowly, still jumpy on her feet. Gus looked at Dean “Don’t think I’ve forgotten you”

    Dean swallowed and ignored him otherwise.

    Gus then attempts at running around the front and Emily sprints to the back of the car, but stops, because Gus fell over Ray again.

    Dean looks back at her in alarm when she screams. He sees her turn, with her hair swinging in the air, and kicks something, that gives a grunt. She crouches and Dean sees Gus get up and get past Ray without falling this time, and Dean shouts Emily’s name to warn her and she is up and they are running again.

    Dean is almost by the door when they stop the second lap around the car. But this time it is Gus who is on his side of it, and he is panting and resting his hands on his knees behind Dean.

    “Okay. Maybe I can’t catch you, girl.” He heaves in a deep breath, “But your buddy over here, is a lot easier to catch.”

    Dean watches Gus straighten up and take one step forward, then Dean looks at the door, at the steering wheel inside through the window and his eye catches on a phone in the front-window. Before he knows of it, he has opened the door, lunched himself forward, and grabbed the phone. He had hurried it down in his pocket and thrown himself at the steering wheel before Gus was over him and grabbed onto the shoulder of his jacket, dragged him back and slamming him into the side off the truck.

    “So, I’ve got your ugly friend.”

    “If you think I’m ugly you should take a look at yourself”

    “Shut up!” Gus hissed back.

    “What, you’ve never seen a mirror? Or do they just crack whenever you’re in sight?”

    “I said shut it, you stinking little rat!” he said and shoved Dean back into the cars side, hard, so he’d shut up. Dean guessed Gus was right; he couldn’t be looking that great and he knew he didn’t smell like roses at the time. Dean tried to shove back and get to the front seat but was shoved back into the side again. “You think you can just drive away, huh kid? You stay right here, I’ll just take the keys and… Where are the keys?” Gus had glanced into the car.

    Dean smiled at him. “Well they’re not in the ignition, so if you-”

    “I didn’t ask where they aren’t! I asked where they are!”

    “Well you’re not gonna get them anyway”

    “You have them? Give them to me!”

    “I’m not- Whoa, hey! I don’t have them!”

    Gus was feeling on the pockets at Deans pants, front and back, and squeezed at his butt cheeks. “Tell me where they are then”

    Dean would have hit him in the face, and he almost did, but he had to grab hold of the side not to fall and his body hurt enough without him having to fall again and make it worse. So he just snarled at him.

    “Guess again!” Emily’s voice sounded from the other side of the truck with a rattling sound of the keys.

    “Give them to me girl!”

    “No, don’t do it!”

    “Give them here!” Gus commanded her.

    “Why? Are you going somewhere?” she said defiantly and sniffled. “And I have a name you know”

    “Right, Emma-“

    “Emily!”

    ”Emily! Whatever… I’ll make it simple: If you don’t get over here with the key, he will look a lot worse than he does now”

    “No, stay away! Don’t do it for me!” Dean yelled and hoped she’d listen to him. “Ourh!” Gus hit him in the stomach.

    “I told you to shut up. Give me the keys, Emily, and I’ll be kind to you”

    “He’s lying! Don’t listen to him!” Dean gasped.

    “You keep interrupting! Shut it!” he said and pressed him into the cars side by his left hand on Deans chest, making him hiss and grunt in pain at the pressure.

    “Don’t hurt him!”

    “Then come with the keys!”

    “N-No, don’t!” Dean grunted out.

    “I won’t give you them, you’ll just hurt me more”

    “I won’t, I promise!”

    “He’s lying!”

    “I’m not! I promised, didn’t I?”

    “Yeah, ‘cause you’re such a reliable guy!” Dean said sarcastically, “Who says that means anything to you, scum?”

    “You little-“ Gus pressed his left forearm to Dean’s throat to strangle him, but stopped when Emily cut in:

    “He’s right, how can I trust you?”

    “I guess you won’t… Well. Since you are so happy to interrupt me, boy, you can tell her to give me the keys”

    “Why should I give you the keys?”

    “Tell her if she doesn’t get over here and give me the fucking keys, I will penalize you!”

    “Forget it” Dean spat him in the face. Gus didn’t like it – strangely enough – and hit Dean in the face, hard enough that Dean felt a bit of blood roll down his cheek and down his neck.

    “Okay, okay! I’ll give you the keys, just don’t hurt him!”

    Dean’s head hurt and throbbed and his breath were so loud. He was lightheaded but did hear her reply. “NO! Don’t! Em, don’t do it! Just run, I’ll be alright!”

    “Shut up, twit! It's fine, come give them to me!”

    Emily slowly walks around the front of the car in a big circle. “You want the keys? Then catch!” She says and throws him the keys and he lets go of Dean with one hand to catch them.

    “I’m glad you’re left-handed!” says Dean fast and knocks Gus to the ground, but when Gus isn’t holding Dean up anymore, he collapses himself. But with his left leg stiff, he falls sideways, into the car-door so it opens wide and he almost slides to the ground but ends at one knee, grunting in pain.

    Gus gets up on his elbows and is about to rise again when Emily suddenly stands between his legs and kicks him hard in the balls so he gasps and curls into a ball on his side in pain and can’t get up.

    Emily turns to look at Dean. He is half slumping up against the door and half trying to get a hold on something so he can get up again. He is so dizzy and tired and everything hurts. He looks up and tries to get his eyes to focus on her. Slowly, he regains his sight and the dizziness simmers down a bit but his head is still throbbing and his body is still buzzing with ache.

    She looks like she’s about to say something, but doesn’t when they hear the two other guys stirring, instead she hurries to Dean’s side, says “We better go” and helps him up. She turns around, looking for the keys and goes to get them and Dean watches her kick the guy in the face before taking back the keys. Luckily Dean has the seat and the door to lean on, so he doesn’t fall again while she fetches the keys.

    Then she’s back, with the keys in hand, tugging herself in under his left arm and folds her right arm around his waist. She looks up at him with questioning eyes, asking him if he’s okay. Dean makes one nod in reply. She seems to accept it and asks him: “You ready?” Dean nods once again and they both say at the same time: “Let’s get in” before she takes on some of his weight so they can walk around the front of the pickup truck and get to the other side, so Dean can sit in the passenger-side.

    But they don’t get that far. They only get around the driver's sides door and then stops abruptly when they hear the sounds of multiple honks from what is definitely more than one car.

    “Oh no, Dean” She looked terrified at him.

    “More is coming” he finished her thought.

    They both knew that meant the road out would be blocked, there was only room for one car at the time and this courtyard was big, but still there were only room for so many cars. There were already four cars parked randomly there; Dean guessed the third was K.O.’s, but the forth he couldn’t tell. Maybe a spare? He’d gotten the impression that these were the only ones there up until now.

    Now the car was out of question. Dean doubted they could get to the narrow path by the road before they came rolling in and a whole trip through the forest in his condition? Dean wasn’t really up for that and he didn’t know if he could really do it, but he was damn well gonna try. Although. He would probably just slow her down and get them both back in trouble. If that was so, he'd have to change plans. He didn’t exactly feel good and since neither of them knew where ‘here’ was, neither of them knew how big the forest was or which direction would lead them to the nearest town or if the nearest town even was nearby.

    The car’s again honked to tell of their arrival and was audible getting closer. It sounded like there was about three of them. _‘Great!’_ Dean thought sarcastically to himself.

    “Dean, what do we do now?”

    “Run”

    There was no other option…

***~*~***

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hurt and on the run on foot, what do you think about that ? .. Do you think they can make it ? ..


	13. Run And Rest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now they're on the run in the forrest, but Dean is slowing their pace and needs a rest. Can they run away or will they get caught?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys ! .. Now I'm back with the next chapter ! .. Since I've been gone so long, I've made this chapter a bit longer too ..
> 
> I'm sorry I didn't have the time to post it in January, and I'm sorry I told one of you that it would be posted 'in about next week' when it didn't really happen, and I'm sorry I didn't have the time to tell you it would have to wait. But also I'm not really sorry since my grandmother got really ill and I needed to take care of her. She's a lot better now and my mother is visiting her now, so I've come back home.
> 
> I hope this longer chapter can make up for my 'non-updating' a bit .. (:

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    The honks sounded again, the vehicles were closing in.

    “Which way?”

    “It doesn’t matter, just not towards them” He looked swiftly but carefully at the forest line around them in search for a way out, “There! Go that way”

    “Where? It’s all trees, there’s no path”

    “Exactly! Hurry - in between the trees” Dean tried to hobble towards the trees in question but Emily stopped him.

    “In there? But you’re hurt; the forest floor isn’t- Can you even-?”

    “Yes, Emily, I can do it! Now help me move my ass before they get here!”

    “O-Okay, come on” she said nervously and tugged him with her.

    It was a hard and painful walk that probably was pretty clumsy looking too with Dean limping at her side, trying to get away as fast as possible. Which really wasn’t that fast.

    When Dean and Emily passed the rear end of Ray’s car to get to the forest line they also passed K.O. who was still lying on the ground where they left him last. But now he was stirring and trying to lift his head a little. Emily noticed and briefly stopped to kick him in the head, so he didn’t wake and stop them, before continuing towards the trees.

    They are in the forest line before they hear the cars come into the courtyard and step on the brakes. Dean and Emily is only a couple of meters in when the headlights bathes them and the trees around them in a yellow light, a slightly contrast to the darkened woods, and they hurried on in.

    “When did it start to get dark?” Dean didn’t realize he’d said it out lout before Emily answered him:

    “It wasn’t long ago, but is that really important right now?”

    Dean first quirked his eyebrow at the unexpected answer to a thought and then frowned. When they heard the car doors being slammed shut they quickly turned to look over their shoulders and turned back to running away.

    Somewhere back there they could hear voices; all male, both shocked and angry. Asking what happened and who did this and how. There was a deeper voice asking if someone was okay.

    “Don’t mind about me, get them!”

    “Who Gus? Where are they?”

    “The damn kids! A boy and a girl, go grab them, now!”

    “They ran that way” K.O.’s voice cut in.

    “K.O., are you sure? You were-“

    “I’m sure! Damn girl kicked me in the head when they passed me. The boy is hurt, though, so they probably…“ The voices got lower as they got further away, so they couldn’t hear the rest of what was said.

    It was a hard terrain to hobble through with the leg and the ribs and the head and all the pain and dizziness in general, plus the air-restrained lungs that made him heave and gasp for air. Dean’s heavy breath was impossible to both lower and normalize, he couldn’t take lower or smaller breathes, his lunges was craving the air that wouldn’t come and stay as easily as it used to. He couldn’t stop the wheezing sound whenever he took a breath and he was starting to think that might give them away and give them trouble in hiding from these men. If they could hear him it wouldn’t take them long to find him and Emily.

    The forest floor was full of branches, leaves, small bushes and in many places the ground was moist and a bit muddy. Dean and Emily was stumbling through as best they could and Dean made Emily try to cover their tracks to just slow the men down and make it harder for them to find them. So Emily did, she took some leaves and some twigs and pushed it over some of the more visible footprints caused by the mud. Some loose branches she took and threw on the ground where they had walked to make it look like they wouldn’t be going that way with Dean Hurt, and Dean helped a bit too though he couldn’t do much in his condition.

    Sometimes they had so get over a bush or two and it was difficult to get Dean over them. His left leg was stiff because if he bent it, it hurt like a mother. Emily couldn’t give him the best support when she had to drag him through the bushes because she almost couldn’t place her hand on a spot without it hurt Dean and worsened his breath and pain. He was still dizzy as hell, his head throbbed and the sounds got louder and lower every now and then. His coordination was off and he would have fallen thirty times already if it wasn’t for Emily. All he wanted to do was to lie down and sleep if possible, but he knew it wasn’t so and he couldn’t, but he really wanted to, anyway.

    The men were searching the woods fast and thoroughly. Dean could both hear and feel how they were getting slightly closer with every step. Their calls through the trees got a bit louder as they got closer. Calls to each other about the search and calls to Dean and Emily telling them they wouldn’t get far. Dean was beginning to think they were right.

    Finally it became too much – the pain, the in-and-out- haze and dizziness, his heavy breath, the too slow pace, the stupid knowledge of being the hunted instead of the hunter, and the disbelieve telling they couldn’t make it out – Dean feared they would catch up and capture them again. He also needed a freaking rest.

    “Stop… ugh, Em, stop” Dean said heaving and Emily slowed to a stop.

    “You okay? Need a break?”

    “You can’t afford it. I thought… I could do this… argh… but I’m only slowing you down… ah-and my breath is revealing our position. You need to get out of here… you’ll move a lot faster… without me” Dean breathed heavily.

    “No, I won’t just leave you here, you’re hurt and I can’t run around out here alone! They’ll get me!”

    “No they won’t. I know you can do it, you don’t need me to run”

    “Like hell! Shut up, you’re coming with!” she refuses to go alone with tears soaking her eyes and she drags him with her, stubbornly. Dean holds back the pained sounds as best he can and stumbles with.

    After a bit time, with the psychopaths still getting closer, Dean says panting: “This is still going too slow… ach… we need to speed up” he shook his head once to clear his sight, but it just swam more.

    “Dean your hurting, this ain’t gonna go any faster”

    “Yes it is, if you speed up and haul me with you”

    “I won’t hurt you”

    “You need to if you want me with! You can do it… just ignore my pain, I’ll do the same”

    “Dean –“

    “We need to move a lot faster… to get out of here, so just do it!” he had that tone in his voice again. He wasn’t sure if it grounded her right now or if it scared her. He thought maybe it was a bit of both.

    “Okay…” She says insecure and winches at the pained sounds the new pace she sets draws out of him.

    Shortly after, they hear one of the men yell: “Hey guys! I think I found something!” and Dean and Emily speeds up the pace. If they caught up on their tracks they didn’t have any more time to cover, they’d be here soon.

    “Good job, Dunc. Where did they go?”

    “I’m not sure; the track stops here by this bush, but we’re definitely closer now. We keep the search near this area and we’ll find them in no time”

    “Okay guys, you heard Duncan, spread out here”

    ‘Son of a bitch, they’re closing in fast’ Dean thought. He knew they could find them whenever right now, and Dean was still slowing Emily down. If she was to get out of here, he couldn’t come with, and he thought they both knew it somehow. She had to leave him behind to get back home. ‘She has to get home, I promised her’ “Emily, wait. Stop…”

    “What? Stop? Now? Are you crazy? They’ll catch us!”

    “Me”

    “What?”

    “They’ll catch me… You… Ow. You have to leave me”

    “I won’t do that, shut up and run!”

    “Leave me; it’s your only chance!”

    “I don’t care!” her voice was shaky and thick with tears.

    Dean stopped moving abruptly and almost caused them both to fall, but she caught them and straightened up before they could fall. Then she stopped and they stood still for a moment.

    “Are you trying to get us killed?” she asked.

    “I need you to leave me… go, now”

    “No, you are coming”

    “I’m not… I’m slowing you down and you know it… if y-“

    “I need you! I need you with me” with a tear escaping her eye she stubbornly started walking again, forcing Dean with her in clumsy steps. Dean tries to keep up, for her.

    The men are yelling from time to time, telling they found some more tracks and which directions the other shall search in.

    Emily is stubborn but Dean really can’t keep up with her. He is limping, stumbling clumsily with her as best he can, but he trips over even the smallest stones or branches and his dizziness makes him wobble sideways or put more of his weight on her.

    “I can’t keep it up, Em”

    “You have to”

    He stops moving his feet and she drags him three feet before she gets wobbly and stops. Nervous and afraid. She is panting and slightly shaking.

    Dean can’t breathe so well and tries desperately to catch his breath but it just won’t stay in his damn lungs. She is looking at him like he is about to die, so Dean is pretty sure she knows he can’t go any further. He is much too tired too, his breath is so heavy and loud he wonders how they aren’t found by now. His head is still throbbing and he can hear the pulse of his blood in his veins and his harsh breathing loudly in his ears. The dizziness still hasn’t left him so he only stands on his wobbly legs because she is keeping him upright and he is trying hard to hold his head up too. He still can’t open his swollen left eye and his right eye is going in and out of haziness.

    “God you’re heavy. You really have to keep walking”

    “No, I can’t…”

    “Don’t say that”

    “There… that tree… I need to sit down”

    Emily wasn’t much happy with the thought and knew it would be hard to get him up standing again, but it was obvious he really couldn’t stand anymore and his weight was heavy on her “hmm… Just for a minute then”

    A few steps to the side and she was gently leaning Dean’s back against the tree, carefully helping him to slowly sink down to a sitting position. His left stretched leg was gliding out to the side as he bends his right till he was almost sitting and let that one glide outwards as well. He grunted and winced in pain and stiffened tense when his ass touched the ground. He forced himself to ease and sit on his aching ass anyway. He is squeezing his eye shut and biting his lip, waiting for the hurt to simmer down a bit.

    When he is as comfortable as he can be in this situation he tries to take a deep breath, but it makes him cough instead. He keeps it down as best he can while Emily watches out for trouble, goes around him and sits down at his right side next to him, where she is hidden behind a bush, out of sight of the men chasing them. Then Dean opens his eye, rolls his head back against the tree and winces at the hurt in the back of his head but doesn’t move it.

    He looks at Emily and tries to make his eye focus on her. “Go without me” he rasps out almost whispering.

    “No!”

    “Go, Emily”

    “No, I can’t, I don’t care what you say, you have to co-”

    “You need to leave me! I can’t go any further… I’m dizzy and I feel… like I’m about to throw up… and pass out. You can’t drag me out of here… and I’m not letting them… take both of us. You’re not staying… and… I’m not going. I can’t move any further…” Dean harshly breathed out with that tone of his Dads, taking a heaving breath with every pause.

    “No, Dean you have to! You-”

    “I can’t run with you, but I sure as hell… can slow those… fuckers down… give you a head start. You run… That was our deal, remember? ... I say run and you do it.”

    “That was before I knew how bad your shape was!”

    “You can’t do… anything ‘bout it… I’ll be okay… promise”

    “No” she cried out. “I need you with me, I don’t know where we are, and I can’t run alone”

    “I think… we both know… that you can”

    “No, I can’t get away without you! You don’t get it, I got lost in the last forest I were in, and look what that got me; I was tricked, and ra… ra... They did things to me and locked me in a car with … something from like a horror movie!”

    Dean had no answer to that. He just looked surprised up at her with a slightly open mouth, and then he looked down. She had been through some tough stuff already. They both had. But reminded of her reaction when she saw him earlier and that comment now… he must really look like crap.

    “Dean, I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-“

    “No… It’s alright… I get it. Really, I do. But you have to do this… And I know you can do it.” Dean felt a tiny bit better, getting slightly more air sitting than he did on the move. “I saw… how you outran that son of a bitch back there… you can do this. I know it.”

    Her face was twisted in a frown of angst, stubbornness, sadness and uncertainty. She was crying as quietly as she could, obviously trying hard to hold it back. Her tearful eyes looked directly at Dean, big wet Bambi-eyes with some of her hair falling softly in front of her eyes, occasionally blinking to keep the salty tears from falling, though, they did anyway.

    Dean couldn’t look away. Then he slowly started to tilt towards her, started to fall, but she catches him and gently pushes him back up against the tree. He lets his head fall back against the bark and momentarily closes his eye. He opens it back up when he feels her hand hit his right shoulder and hears her voice telling him to stay awake.

    He glares at her confused for a short moment, like he has never met her before this very moment and something washes over his face, followed by some sort of recognition.

    “Dean?”

    “Wha? Yeah?”

    “Are you okay?”

    “Yeah, sure, I’m amazing… Just peachy”

    She swallowed hard. “Are you sure you wanna do this?”

    “You have to go” They heard some yelling nearby and Dean lowered his voice some, “Now!” he said and pushed her slightly away.

    “I-I can’t, they’ll get me!”

    “No they won’t…” Dean’s eye traveled a bit from her face and caught on something. “What’s that?” He just looked in its direction and she blinked twice and then followed his gaze.

    “What?”

    “Is it a branch? ... Get it for me, will ya’?”

    She looked at him and back in the direction of his gaze. Then she walked crouching over to some other bushes and dug out a big branch from it, getting longer as she lifted it out from the bush. She came back to him with it, it was pretty long, and she placed it in his arms, careful not to hit his raw wrist.

    “What are you gonna do?” She looked worried and someone was yelling to the others, not far away from them so she got a bit edgy.

    “Just go, I’ll be fine”

    “Don’t lie to me! You are not fine and you’ll not be fine and this is not okay, what are we gonna do?!” she burst out in her whispering panic.

    “Emily! Just shut up and run, you’ll be okay… but not if you stay here with me! … I can’t go with, so just go!” He pushed her again and she landed on her bud and hands. “Run… Find a stick if you can… to protect yourself with… Go now, before they get here… I’ll slow them down”

    She gets up on her knees, looking sad or maybe hurt. After a brief moment she leans in and kisses Deans’ right bruised cheek, lips light and soft as a feather but still earning a little winch. Then she gets up and walks back towards the way they were going before, around Deans legs and ducking under an outstretching branch from the big tree opposite of the one Dean is leaned up against. She turns to look back at Dean, maybe some kind of insurance that he was still there or something, her gaze lingering for a moment, trying to get a silent “Thanks” to him. Dean just blinked once to acknowledge it and mouthed to her “Go”.

    She is about to go when someone sees her and hastily yells: “Over here! I found one! It’s the girl, they must have split up! I got her, look for the boy!”

    Dean tries to look back around the tree, but he can’t see anything, both because of the tree and the swollen eye of his. Emily screams and Dean Looks in her direction, she is just standing there, screaming. Dean adjusts the branch in his hand letting some of it rest alongside his forearm and listens. The man is close by. But Emily is still just standing there, frozen to the spot in fear, crying and shaking.

    Dean tries to make her run, but there is no way he can do that without being noticed by the guy. He tries to whisper to her to run but she is in a bubble, hears nothing.

    Then she seems to wake up a bit and starts to scream really loudly and backs away shaking, but backs into a tree, panicking as she can go no further back.

    Dean knows that’s because the man is really getting close now, and listens for his heavy, stumping feet hitting the ground and closing in.

    He finally hears the man just behind the tree and when the dude comes running he swings the branch as hard as he can, putting all his strength in the swing, and smacks the branch hard into the guys legs – not sure where he hits though – and the man grunts loudly, trips and flies clumsily forward and falls into the opposite tree with and awful thud.

    Dean had closed his eye when he swung the branch, but now he opened it. He was a bit shocked by the sight that met his eye; the man stood up against the tree, face turned upwards, he was holding his hands in the bark near his body and he was gurgling. He was fucking gurgling in his own blood that dribbled from his mouth and oozed out of him, front and back. The branch on the tree had gone right through him, had speared him and held him in place so he didn’t fall to the ground. The red painted tip sticking out of his back, dripping red blood on the dirt beneath. The man’s body was kind of tense, trembling and slightly twitching but stopped all of that, moments later.

    Dean stared at the still man. He’d never killed a human before, hunters don’t do that. But was he really human? If he was a monster, which kind could he then be? What monster could die of this? If he was a monster it would make it okay. But Dean didn’t know what to think.

    His thoughts were swirling in his head, making him slightly dizzy. His eye traveled a bit and caught on Emily still standing there against that tree she backed into, now holding both her hands up, covering her mouth and nose. She was really pale. Her eyes were glassy and leaking watery tears down her cheeks and hands. She looked frightened and maybe a bit sick. She was staring at the dead man in front of her with wide scared eyes.

    “You okay?” Dean asked her and apparently ripped her out of her own thoughts as she turned her gaze to him with a tiny jump and blinked, now staring at Dean. She breathed out in one puff in her hands. That puff of air went upwards and blew some of her hair up away from her face, only to fall back down and cover her one eye.

    She blinks again, stares back at the man for a while. The blood dripping from the branch impaling him like one big spike is disturbing to watch and they both know he won’t move no more.

    Emily looks slowly back at Dean. She looks so small and thin as she stands there, trembling with shock. She’s all silent. She just stares at Dean; seriously scared, shocked and with something else in her eyes, something Dean isn’t sure what is – _‘Weird’_ – and her gaze switches between them; from Dean to the dead man and back to Dean.

    Dean Stares back at her. “I-I-I didn’t mean to do that” he blurs out. He frowns at himself; he hadn’t planned on saying that. He cleared his throat and told her to go. “Hurry, you don’t have much time” she was still just standing there, staring at him in a weird way. “Now, go” He told her. She takes a few unsure steps to the side and stops, still staring at him in that way. “What are you waiting for?” Dean asks and breathes hard with a slightly whistling tone. She takes a few steps back with her hands still on her mouth and nose, her eyes still on Dean like he was the monster there. “Emily?” Dean whispers, a little confused but looks from her to the body to her. “Em, I-“

    Dean was cut off by the sound of the other men’s voices calling for their Dead friend and since they don’t get an answer, they will surely be checking it out.

    “You need to run, now! Run, God damn it, run!”

    Someone’s getting closer, calling out to his friend. “Duncan? Dun- Ow, shit! Stupid undergrowth. Where are you dude? What’s taking you so long? Duncan- Ow, come on!”

    “Run!” Dean tells her, hoping the men didn’t hear him. Then she backs a bit away, turns around and she sets off and runs as fast as she can through the woods when the voices are yelling again.

    _‘About freaking time!’ Dean thinks and takes a half relived breath, ‘Shit, what the hell do I do now? I can only try to slow them down but what then? It’s not like... Right! Of course, the phone! How could I forget?!’_

    Dean lets go of the branch in his lap and dives down in his jackets pocket to find the mobile so he can make a call. He switches the phone over to his right hand and dials the first number that pops into his head. _‘Shit! I can’t call him now, he and Dad aren’t even talking anymore’_ he thinks and hangs up. He hurries and dials another number.

    The dial tone sounds. “Come on, come on, come on!” Dean whispers. Then his father’s gruff voice sounds: “If you know this number, you must know what to do” followed by a ‘Beep’. The phone wasn’t picked up so he leaves a message instead: “Dad! It’s Dean. Um. Something’s happened… I… I’m sorry, but Sam was gone, I have no idea if Jim’s found him or not and now I’m- I… Shit. Dad I’m in trouble, I don’t know where I am, he was just there and- He did- shit! I didn’t mean to- crap. I took his phone, mine is- I- Dad I need you, I’m not okay. Just, please come and find me” Another beep sounded and stopped him. _‘Shit, that didn’t go as planned. Dad’s gonna think I’m a wuss’_

    Dean hurries and dials up another number of his fathers. Again, the answering machine is all he gets, the phone must be off or something because it went directly to the machine, and he leaves another message: “Damn it Dad, pick up your damn phone! I’ve left a message on your other cell. Please help me. I’m in trouble. I think I’m about a day’s drive from pastor Jim’s, but I don’t know which direction, but the dude drives a black pickup, he’s not alone, big group. Hurry… Come and get me, I don’t know if… Please find me, Dad.” he stopped the call. His tone had gone weak and light and shaking at the end of the call. He didn’t know what to do. He could sure use the comfort of his father’s gruff commanding voice to ground him and tell him what to do right now. It wasn’t exactly nice, sometimes it could feel like hell, but it still grounded him and made him focus and he needed that right now.

    Dean got dizzy again; he could hear the pulse of his veins in his head and he could feel his heart hammering in his still hurting chest.

    For a moment he couldn’t remember what he was doing. The numbers he wanted to press and call was scrambled. He closed his eye and took a very deep breath. His head cleared slightly and the number came to him, his fingers still remembering. He dialed and waited. “Come on Jim, pick it up, please pick it up” it went to the answering machine so he hung up and dialed the number again.

    “Duncan, God damn it, If you don’t fucking answer me soon I’ll- Fuck!” One of the men yells.

    Dean puts the phone on his right shoulder and holds it there with his head so he can still listen and then he carefully picks up the branch and holds it the same way as he did the last time. His side hurts even more as he lifts his shoulder a bit so his head don’t have to tilt that much, he finds it makes him more dizzy.

    “Duncan? Fuck… Guys! Get over here, now! Something’s wrong!”

    Dean knew that meant he didn’t have the time to hear if the call goes through. The men called out to each other and they seemed to have noticed their not-moving friend.

    He could hear two sets of stumping feet somewhere nearby, two of the men must be getting close. Dean’s sight got hazy for a second or two; he tilted slightly and dropped the phone. The sound of the phone colliding with the ground made him blink, wake up a bit and concentrate more focused on the task. The two men were on the way, he needed to be ready.

    Dean listened closely, he could hear their footsteps clearly now, they wasn’t far away. He could hear their shocked voices when the ones closest saw that their dead friend, Duncan, wasn’t just standing up against that tree. At least that’s what Dean guessed.

    The two men pick up their pace and Dean readies himself. He grips the branch tighter and waits for the right moment to come.

    Suddenly the moment is there and he swings the branch as hard as he can again and feels how the branch smacks right into the shins of the first of the two men’s legs. The sound surprises him, as the branch collides with the shins it breaks in the hit, and the sound of it is loud as hell. It knocks the first man over and he falls to the ground, grunting and cursing at the pain in his shins.

    Dean looks at the broken stick in his hand. The branch is now full off sharp spikey-splints at the end. He decides that can be useful and adjusts it in his hand while looking at the guy lying on the ground before him. The blood is dripping down on the head off the guy who stills and tenses when he realizes what it is, he rolls a bit away and sends a horror-filled look at the blood-puddle and the guy who he knows is dead. He is staring up at the stick coming out of his dead friends back but still grunting over his hurting shins.

    The second one comes close but stops before the tree so Dean can’t hurt him just yet. He thinks the guy must be checking the spot before just running blindly into a trap like his friends.

    He can probably hear Dean breathe. His breathe has gotten a bit better, a bit easier, but it still is harsh, a bit squeaky, rough and loud. Frankly, he wonders how the two other guys didn’t hear it and ran right into this.

    Apropos the other guy, he is slowly turning his head to stare at Dean. He has finally noticed him. But he looks even more frightened as he sees Dean sit there; hurt, swollen eye, dried- and a bit fresh blood in the face and down his clothes, on his arms and hands, raw wound of a wrist, bruised face and filthy hair and clothes, heaving for air like a freaking dog with a collar that is too tight, just sitting there with a broken fucking stick in his hands.

    He himself is lying down but getting up on one elbow, holding his right shin with blood oozing out between his fingers. He is pail and wide-eyed and his mouth is hanging open. He sends a look in his living friend’s direction, then looks back at Dean and holds the gaze of their eyes meeting. “You can come, but be careful. He has a branch, sharp end.” He rats him out and curses at his hurting wound.

    Dean lets his head fall back against the tree, exhausted and annoyed that the guy had to alert the other one. But it didn’t surprise him.

    The other one carefully comes into view. He has a branch of his own, longer, thicker. “Drop the stick” he tells Dean on safe distance in front of the first man.

    Dean thinks of his options, he doesn’t really have any. He can’t run, he can’t hide, hell, he can’t even get up on his feet on his own right now, and he has the smaller one of the two weapons.

    The man kicks Dean’s left leg and it draws a pained grunt out of Dean. The man seems to realize that Dean can’t move and visibly lightens up with a smile.

    “I said drop your stick, boy” his voice sounded with a slight giggle in the tone.

    “You first!” Dean spat back at him.

    “Can’t you hear, boy? I told you to-”

    “Yeah, I heard you. But I said you first, douchebag”

    “Me first? Look what you’ve done to my friends! I’m not gonna end up like those two. You put it down first and I’ll do the same.”

    “I didn’t- … They asked for it”

    “Yeah sure, they begged you for it… Pthh, right!” the man laughed. “Your weapon is broken, there is more of us and you are alone, who do you think have the best odds? Put it down and let it go.”

    “I might have bad odds, but if I’m going down, I might as well go down fighting.”

    “Don’t be stupid kid”

    “Right back at ya’. You don’t wanna end up like those guys? Then I suggest you throw that away and go home.”

    That comment made him laugh. Then he threw his branch into some bushes behind them, making the first guy complaint of almost being hit by it. “Fine, I don’t need a stick to take you on anyway.” He kicks Deans left leg again and earns a hissing grunt of pain, “But you are coming home with me.”

    “No thanks dude, you’re not my type.”

    The guy laughs again. “This one’s a funny one!” he tells his friend. “But I dropped my stick, your turn to loose yours.”

    “And what if I Don’t?”

    “Well, then I’d have to confiscate it or simply kick you till you drop it.”

    Dean knows the man knows that Dean ain’t going anywhere. He knows he don’t have much of a chance and he will probably just pass out and be doomed soon anyway, so he takes a deep breath and throws the spiked branch after the guy, but he didn’t have much energy or strength left and his coordination was off, so the man just jumped to the side and the branch only hit the first guy, making him cry out and start a new string of curses.

    The other guy was laughing his ass off, making fun of his friend that got hit instead of him.

    Dean can’t help it and falls to the right, dizziness taking over followed by horrible ache in his ribs. He thinks he hears something but can’t make it make sense, little voices, a name, maybe his name, or maybe not. He gets up on his elbow and blinks hard. His whole body hurts and he can’t do much about it. He can’t decide if he’s going to be sick or pass out and he swallows and blinks again.

    The man goes to the other side of Dean so he is right in front of his face and then crouches. He says something Dean can’t quite hear and grabs Dean and pushes him back up to a sitting position. Dean realizes he hadn’t even been able to try to do anything. Something in him broke down and he wanted to yell at himself to get going and do something, but he was so dizzy, and so tired.

    The man keeps talking to Dean, but the sound is so far away, though getting clearer. He is mocking Dean and his own friend and laughs right into Dean’s face. Dean starts to look defeated. The man obviously thinks the game is over and he has won or something like that. But then he moves his right leg over Dean’s, and Dean lashes out for his face, but hit’s his shoulder. Anyways, it made him loose a bit of his balance so he backed a bit away, and now he’s crouching by Dean’s feet over his right leg. He just looks at Dean, wide smile, giggle in his tone as he says:

    “Is that all the fight you can come up with?” and he laughs mockingly.

    The first guy is complaining at his hurting wounds and the second guy is mocking him and laughing at him as well. That of course makes the first guy angry and he starts to yell at him. It hurts in Dean’s ears and he winches at it. The guy over his leg turns his head to laugh some more in his friends direction and Dean doesn’t wanna waste that opportunity; he focuses and readies to kick the guy in the sack, but then the guy places a hand on Deans left knee so Dean in a pained reflex kicks the guy hard in the balls, harder than he himself expected, so the guy falls to his back and rolls to the side. Now the first one is laughing his ass off as the other is hurting. Dean himself can’t help a little smug smile; the bastard deserved that at the least.

    The first guy can’t stop laughing and the other one starts to yell at him and tells him to shut up with a squeaky voice. That only makes him laugh harder.

    “What’s so funny Aiden?”'

    The first guy, this Aiden, slowly stops laughing. The other guy gets real quiet too and tries to sit up.

    “Uhh, nothing”

    “And you, Ethan, why are you just lying there? Get up! Both of you fools get up! Stop fooling around! What happened here?” his voice was angry and loud. “What happened to Duncan?” Nether of the two guys has an answer so they become silent.

    “Me…” Dean slightly whispers.

    “What was that?” the furious voice asked, “Repeat!”

    Dean just looked up at him tiredly and slightly confused. His head was pounding and he had forgotten the question.

    “I said: What the fuck happened to Duncan?” the man said and kicked Deans left thigh so he grunted and almost fell to his side again, but was prevented by the man’s tightening grip on his shoulder. Dean winced and gritted his teeth. “What hap-?”

    “I did!” Dean sneered back at him.

    “You? You did that?” Dean didn’t say anything, just stared back at the man. He let go of his shoulder and kicked him again. “I see he at least got a few hits in before-“

    “He didn’t…”

    “What-?”

    “I hit him, then he decided to hug that tree”

    “Little liar! He-“

    “Actually, Boss…” he turned his attention to Aiden who had gotten up on his feet, “He might be telling the truth”

    “What? You’re saying that one little hit from that little shit without further struggle could-“

    “He had a branch before…” the other guy cuts in.

    “Right, he pokes you with a stick and everyone collapses! Get real Ethan!”

    “No it’s true Howard! When I came to check on Duncan, he hit me with it and I fell to the ground, he could have done the same thing to Duncan”

    They got quiet and all turned to look at Dean. He slowly closed his eye.

    “Well, did you check on him then?”

    “No, I fell when he hit me.”

    “Then why are you just standing there? Check on him! Ethan, Get him up on his feet before he falls asleep! Larry, help him”

    Dean actually was about to pass out. He woke a little as he was manhandled to his feet, the two men grapping him and pressing on the most painful spots. He tried to fight them, but he was too weak, his limbs felt too heavy and his whole body was hurting still. Every movement hurt, every time they jerked him around it send a wave of pain through him, but he didn’t make it any easier on them anyway. It was a tough task to get him to his feet and even when they succeeded and he gave up fighting, he couldn’t stand on his left leg at all.

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did you like Emily ? .. Would anyone like to see her again ? ..


	14. Fight, Stay Awake, Let Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emily has finally run off and left Dean. Dean is left with the dangerous men that has been chasing them and he's so battered he shouldn't even be awake. Now the bad guys' got him and he's got a special 'No-rejections-allowed' invitation with them back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry again guys! but finally I have gotten a bit of my mojo back, so here's another chapter .. I know it's been about a half year, but life and Death happened, crappy year, and now it finally seems to brighten up a bit .. Though I want to, I can't promise anything about how future maybe/maby-not-stable-future-posting will look yet .. But hey; at least I came up with this one, right ? .. (;

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    “Would you fools, stop fooling around and keep him upright?! Larry frisk him for that phone Ray lost. Aiden?”

    “He is dead Howard! No breath, no pulse, no nothing, just a puddle of blood. I don’t know what you expected; he’s got a fucking stick pierced through him!” Aiden answered.

    “Ow! Stop it! I don’t have anything, okay?” Dean said as this ‘Larry’s hands touched his aching ribs.

    “Shut up kid” was the response he got.

    Dean looked at the man called Howard. ‘Howard’ was looking at the dead guy, with his hand at the chin like he was thinking. He dipped his head and his hand drove op to his eyes. Then he turned around and looked directly at Dean with a sad and angry look. Dean wanted to stare back in defiance, but his head felt heavy and dropped from time to time.

    “Larry. You’re with me; we’ll search the woods for the girl.”

    “What about-“

    “Leave him to Ethan and Aiden. I have to check on both Ray, Aiden and the kid when we get back…” he sighed and turned his attention to Ethan and Aiden. “So you take him to the living room and wait for us. We’ll come meet you there when we’re done. And Larry? Call Ray’s phone, maybe the girl has it. Come on, hand him over and get going!”

    Larry (who is on Dean’s left side) lets go of Dean’s arm and he collapses on the ground with a painful, whimpering, loud grunt. Ethan grunts too and mumbles something, Aiden just huffs out air, looking from Larry and down at Dean, and Dean is trying not to scream in pain. _That_ definitely woke him up.

    Ethan is having trouble getting Dean back up so Aiden helps and they get him up on his feet. Dean even feels relived about that, because Ethan was doing a really lousy job on his own and hurt him more than he ‘helped’.

    Larry is calling Ray’s phone but he says it cuts directly to the answering machine. “So that means that either the phone is turned off or that she’s on the phone, calling somebody. Shit. What do we do Chief?”

    “Ow. You go to hell!” Dean sneers at this Larry-person, angry and frustrated about the pain the other two guys holding him up are causing him.

    Howard turns to him, stares him to silence. Dean stops moving and stares back a bit surprised but as defiantly as he can muster.

    “Where is the girl?” Howard asks with a low growl. Dean doesn’t answer, just lets his tongue roll out, over his lower lip and closes his mouth, his eye never leaving Howard’s. Howard slaps Dean over the right cheek so he grunts. “Don’t insult me. Which way did your little lady-friend go?” he asked again, still with the same result; no answer. Dean actually hadn’t been insulting him; he’d just needed to moist his lips. Howard slowly took a step closer, opening his mouth to say something, possibly threatening, when he was interrupted by Aiden:

    “Uh, Chief, I could be wrong, but I think she went that way” he says and gestures to the left side of the death-tree, with a slight nod of his head in that direction.

    Howard looks to Dean, maybe for some kind of affirmation or something, but Dean isn’t helping him at all and just looks hazy eyed and tries to focus and keep his dropping head upright and stay awake.

    Obviously he gives up with a sigh. “Okay and that theory are based on what?”

    Aiden and Ethan stumble slightly to the right trying to keep Dean up on his feet still, and Dean grunted slightly at the move.

    “Uhh, well. Looks a bit like Dunc was heading that way, and when you come from where we came from, it looks like a straight path. It’s possible she would run that way.”

    “Right. Good. Well, we’ll try it. In the meantime you two get _this_ up in the living room and we’ll meet you there.”

    “Alright Chief, see you there”

    They took one step to turn them around so they could go back to the others at the cabin, but the motion sent a sting of hurt up Deans left leg and the pain first hazed and then cleared his head a tiny bit. They held him up with each of his arms around their shoulders and Dean started bending his arms by the elbow, around each their necks to strangle them; _‘Hell no!’_ , he wasn’t going back there without a fight.

    They both made a strangled noise but Aiden got out of his grip pretty fast, since Dean’s wrist was so raw, because of the rope from the truck, he couldn’t keep a pressure on the sore wound against Aiden’s throat, and he easily got twisted out of that grip. But Ethan on the other hand… that arm was better and Dean clenched it as hard as he was able to and Ethan was not getting out of that grip without help. Dean was so angry he felt it course through his body and strengthen his grip of the guy’s neck.

    But when Aiden twisted out and away from the grip, only holding Dean’s arm with his hands, Dean only had Ethan to lean on, not to fall, and with him getting strangled by Dean’s arm it really wasn’t a great idea to lean against him; he made strangled noises, got all red in the face and tried to get out of the tight grip while staggering backwards and a little to the side, also a bad idea because of the weight on him from Dean, who growled in anger while leaning and clenching. The others seemed really surprised and at first just stood there slightly shocked and stared at the weird scene in front of them. When they finally kicked in and started yelling commands of Dean to release Ethan and walking towards them, Aiden still holding onto his left forearm by the elbow and tugging at him, Ethan twisted his ankle, and he and Dean fell to the ground, pulling Aiden forward as they fell. But Aiden kept holding onto Dean’s arm, so instead of just landing on the ground or on top of Ethan, Dean fell and got swung into the trunk of the tree with a loud _‘ **thump** ’_, dragging Ethan with him over the ground and Dean fell on top of him, partly on the ground, up against the tree trunk.

    That hurt so damn much he couldn’t quite hold back the scream but cut it off half-way turning it into a muffled, pained grunt. He sucked in several deep breathes through the nose and whimpered slightly with the exhales. The collision with the tree made him loose the grip on Ethan’s neck and he scrambled away coughing and heaving and gasping harshly after his breath.

    Dean was still grunting in pain and slightly gasping, his whole body sang with agony as he lay there on his back on the ground, slightly up against the tree he’d been sitting so nicely up against not so long ago. Aiden had let go of his arm as he hit the tree and fallen back a bit but had carefully come back to hover over Dean.

    Howard was squatting down beside Ethan, helping him to sit up and catch his breath, but Larry had only taken a few steps closer and just looked like he had no idea what just happened.

    Aiden looked down at Dean like he was wondering what was wrong with him. “How did you just do that?” he finally asked, only getting a pained, weirded-out and confused look from Dean, as he tried to calm down and let the ache simmer down, ‘cause why would he even ask that? Aiden’s eyes wandered a bit and caught on something further behind Dean’s head.

    “Hey guy’s…” Aiden blinked a couple of times, forehead screwed up in wrinkles for a second before it flatted out and Aiden started smiling a bit. “I think I found the missing phone!” he said and stepped over Dean’s body like he was gonna straddle him and Dean flinched and started trembling.

    “What, you found Ray’s phone?” Larry asked surprised.

    “Maybe…”Aiden said and reached down to pick it up, “’It look like this?” he asked as he got back up and threw it to Larry who caught it and looked down at it.

    Aiden’s attention was on Larry now, as was Howard’s and Ethan’s. Dean clenched his eye shut, he was still shaking slightly and he got mad at himself about the way he’d reacted when Aiden stepped over him, and slightly embarrassed too. But luckily they didn’t seem to have noticed. He was also mad at himself for letting them find the phone; he’d called his Dad, now they’d have his number. _‘Why didn’t I just throw the damn thing away?’_ he scolded himself and opened his eye again.

    Larry was turning the phone in his hands. “Hmm. Phone is dead…”

    _‘It’s dead? Crap! Then maybe my call didn’t go through at all, maybe the phone just died on me before anyone could answer the stupid phone. Although it could have gone to the answering machine after I dropped it. Damn it… Can’t do jack shit about it now.’_ Dean thought to himself.

    “I don’t know guys. He just got back from jail, I mean… I haven’t seen this phone before, and back when he got nailed by the cops, they broke his phone. I haven’t seen no other phone, but he did call with a different number, so I guess it could be this one if he stole it… unless it’s the kids?” Their attention turned onto Dean.

    Howard spoke: “Hey kid, is this your phone?”

    Dean didn’t answer. Aiden softly kicked his hip and told him to answer. Dean swallowed hard and said: “So what if it is?” and the whole group just grunted and sighed heavily with disappointment.

“Damn it! Then the girl must have it… and he might have called the authorities! They both might!” Larry exhaled frustrated.

    “Did you boy?” Howard asked harshly, obviously as frustrated as Larry, if not more. “Who’d you call?”

    “Nobody…”

    “Don’t lie to me kid!”

    “I’m not… like he said; … the phone’s dead, can’t use it if it doesn’t work” Dean was beginning to have trouble with the breathing again, he had to take deeper heaving breaths and he felt very uncomfortable with it.

    “Okay” they sighed and seemed to believe what he said. That was only a tiny bit relieving, they might still find out he lied. But also, if the thing was stolen…

    _‘...If Dad tries to find out who the number belongs to, it won’t lead him here. That would just be wasting his time. Crap. It just ain’t my day today. But if it is stolen, maybe they can’t recharge it and they won’t find out I lied.’_ That would be the best he could hope for right now. Things wasn’t looking good for him, but at least Emily got away, for now at least… he just hoped they wouldn’t find her again and that she could get home safely by herself. Or at least get some freaking help. _‘Yeah… That would be nice’._

    Aiden finally figured out Dean was having a really hard time breathing and crouched to help him sit up, and Dean grunted slightly whimpering. Dean didn’t like it much, getting help from one of those freaking douchebags. But he allowed it and took the help to sit. That helped a bit on his breathing, but his ass had a much different opinion and the wave of pain blew all the way up his spine as well. The feeling made him screw his battered face up in a tight wince and that made him hurt even more. He groaned in pain, he couldn’t find out what to do with himself in this condition without making the ache worse.

    Howard helped Ethan to get to his feet, told Dean to shut up and started bossing them around again. “Larry keep calling the phone, if she’s talking she has to hang up sometime. Ethan, Aiden…” he sighed again, “Take this phone and bring him up to the cabin… fuck guys, this is some day, huh?... Now get going. And **_don’t get strangled!_** Come on Larry, let’s find that damned girl.”

    They all just nodded and did what they were told. Larry, with his eyes on his own phone, and Howard went looking for Emily. Aiden and Ethan both grabbed each an arm and held Dean up till about their waists and started walking, dragging Dean along, his legs dragging through the dirt and undergrowth.

    The first few meters it wasn’t so bad, but the undergrowth doesn’t agree with Dean and his aches and it made it all worse, mostly because of his left knee. He tries to get his feet under him, but that just makes him hobble through it on one leg because his left won’t obey his commands, and he stumble and trip and twist through the forest and it only makes it worse. It hurts ridiculously much, and it makes Dean Scream, grunt, hiss and snarl all the way, trying half to follow and half to get away. When they finally thinks they’d had enough and almost is out, they hauls him to his feet, forcing him to try and walk, and he stumbles hobbling along as best he can, mostly because he really can’t do much else.

    Finally they see the big courtyard and a few steps later they are out of the forests undergrowth, out on the courtyard with the cars. It’s a bit easier to hobble along here on the flat dirt and Dean closes his heavy eyelid in relieve, just for a moment… according to his brain, anyway.

    When he opens his eye back up again, they are on a nice cobblestone-path, leading to the glass-front doors of a freaking big-assed giant Villa-Cabin with outdoor table and chairs, a grill and fireplace and a broad set of wooden-stairs leading to the next floor, Nice little trees and flowers and other sorts of nice plantings planted, making a nice, calming view. And for a moment Dean is in awe – _‘How could I in any way **not see this** before?! Jesus. They must be loaded. Big time.’_

    First they tried to make him walk up the stairs but he really couldn’t do it and grunted in pain. They lost their patience with him and he gets dragged up the wooden stairs, hurting and grunting whiningly.

    At the top of the stairs Dean heaves in a breath and lets it out relieved. They only give him a second to breathe before they are dragging him again and he holds some of his breathe in agony. They drag him into a BIG living room that actually looks very comfy, with a big open kitchen at one corner and a sort of booth with a dining table, and the rest of the room is a sofa corner with a giant fireplace and of course the entrance. There are a few doors and two sets of stairs; one going up, the other down, and you could look up at the next floor, having a handrail so you wouldn’t fall down on this levels floor. Dean’s mouth was open at seeing this big place.

    There was a group of men sitting in the sofas around the flames in the fireplace. One of the men was Ray. Dean recognized him right away. They were talking a lot about Dean and their other catches, which haven’t been brought in yet.

    The men turns their attention on Ethan, Aiden and Dean as the two comes dragging with him. Some of the men gasps and most of them are wide-eyed and some are mumbling “holy shit”. One guy asks if this is Ray’s catch. Ray turns to look at Dean, smiles grimly and says: “Indeed it is my catch. Guys, say hello to Ted Nugent.” Ethan and Aiden stops in the middle of the wooden floor. Ray takes off the ice-bag from his head and pushes some naked girl’s head away from him, zips up his pants and gets up and walks over to Dean, the other men gets up from the sofas too and gathers around Dean and the two guys dragging him in.

    “Yeah, where’s my catch?” Gus brakes in.

    Ethan shakes his head no, “We haven’t found her just yet. This guy turned out to be a bigger problem than we thought and-”

    “In his condition?” someone else cut in.

    Aiden sighs and says: “Yes, even in his condition. But the girl had left him there, he was alone. Except for…”

    The others stared at Aiden. “… Except for what?” they asked him.

    “Except for Dunc…”

    “So he’s out looking for the girl now?”

    “No, he’s…”

    “Well what the hell is he doing then?”

    “He isn’t doing anything” Dean cut in, wheezing breath.

    “What’s that now Ted?” Ray asked and everyone shut up and tried to hear what he was saying.

    “This ‘Dunc’ dude?” Ray narrowed his eyes. “He’s too busy being dead.” Dean said with a gruff gravelly voice and his head dropped again so he winced.

    The men was silent a moment. Then; “Is this true?” Ray asked, wanting information. Ethan said yes and both he and Aiden nodded, Aiden bowing his head slightly. Some of the other men did too shocked and sad. “How did this happen?” Ray demanded. They just looked down at Dean in answer.

    Dean looked up and around, trying to focus, when he noticed all eyes were on him and the words finally registered, he chuckled humor-less, coughed in pain and Said he did it. Really Dean was feeling guilty and hated himself, knowing he’s taken another’s life, even a bastard’s like them. But they couldn’t see that, and his chest hurting by the coughs making him bow his head hid his guild-written, battered face.

    Then Dean was thrown onto the floor, face down and he started coughing and groaning in pain when his chest, head and knee hit the floor. He gasped and tried to get comfortable, he knew he couldn’t run like this, not with them around. Dean pushes a bit up from the floor to lift his aching ribs from it and lessen the hurt just a bit. He looks up at Ray while he’s doing it. The monster stares grimly at him, angrily.

    Ray calls some naked girl and boy over and tells them to help Dean get up and to help him in the big bathroom.

    They scramble over silently and grasp his arms, and they seem shocked when he lets out a sound of agony when they try to get him up and they almost drop him in surprise. But they get him up and gasps shocked at the face of him. They notice that he can’t very well stand, and get him to the bathroom and closes the door behind them. Passing the sink Dean sees a glimpse of his own reflection, briefly. He looks like something that jumped out of a horror-movie, only this was real and that was horrific enough for him.

    They sit Dean down at the closed toilet-seat and starts stripping Dean from his clothes. Dean swears at them at first and threatens them in an attempt to make them stop but they don’t, and Dean doesn’t have the energy or strength to do anything about it, he apparently has no say in this, so reluctantly he lets them do it. But when they come to his neckless he begs them not to take that, to just let him have that at least and he clings his fisted hand around it desperately, telling them “no” and “don’t take this from me”. It’s the only thing he can find a reason to bring his fight back in him and they couldn’t take it from him if they really wanted to. So after trying and failing; they let him keep it.

    They somehow get him into the shower. And somehow that part’s missing from his brain and he frowns at it as water starts to spray over his aching body, even the water feels like it’s hurting him. _‘How did I get in here?’_ he wonders. Had he just blacked out? The two naked… _kids,_ actually… are in the shower with him, holding him up with an effort.

    His right leg is bucking under him and his left is stiff and won’t bend as much as an inch. Several times he almost sinks to the floor and almost collapses to the floor because of his bucking knee. He can’t even bathe alone; they have to bathe with him in order to keep him standing.

    Something is suddenly assaulting his aching face and he tries to turn and get away, but they keeps him still as he tells them to fucking stop. He realizes it’s a sponge and she’s just cleaning him up, but god it hurts. Finally she’s done with the face and she continues to torture his aching chest with the sponge. His head drops and he accidentally sees how his blood and filthiness is all swirling down the drain and sticking to the sponge in her hand. Dean is surprised at how much it seems to be. He doesn’t remember it to be this much. His frown deepens.

    Then the girl places a hand on his forehead and pushes his head back up till it rests on the boys shoulder and Dean closes his eye, getting the spray of clean water in the face on the way. Dean whines and writhes weakly in the boy’s arms; the kid is holding his arms around Dean’s body, making his ribs hurt unbearably.

    Some pieces of the film missing. He starts blacking out. And he blacks out briefly more than once. He grunts and hisses as the two kids have to clean him with bath sponges all over his sore, hurting, bruised, battered body full of wounds. But he lets them clean him, cause he can’t fight, he can’t stand, they have to hold him up while they bathe him, cleans him up, and he can barely keep his on-and-off-hazy eye open. He’s so exhausted; his body is ten tons of lead. He is hazy and dizzy but somewhat aware of his surroundings, some moments disappears like glimpses and he doesn’t get everything.

    Someone has been there and taken all his filthy clothes and brought some new ones with orders to the two cleaning him, to help him get dressed as well and call when it’s done. The guy draws a small smiley on what seems to be a wall-mirror, which the steam is fogging over so you can’t see anything in it… a wall-mirror, which he only noticed just now. _‘Why don’t I notice these things?’_ he’d noticed a mirror, and himself in it, but he hadn’t noticed it was a freaking _wall-mirror_.

    Then the girl bows Deans head down, he tries to bring it back up but she keeps it there and then she’d rubbing something in his hair, probably shampoo or something, rinsing the dirt out of his hair. Something stings badly in the back of his head and he tries to get away, but they keep him in place. She repeats it; rubbing in, rinsing out. Then she takes another bottle from the floor, she rubs it in and lets it be, rubbing his neck and shoulders and arms instead. That reminds Dean of his wrist-wound. It’s throbbing and stinging big time and it hurts like hell and makes him hiss agonized. Then she’s finally rinsing (Probably) the conditioner out of his hair and pushes him back up afterwards, making him groan.

    Then she holds out her arms and the boy pushes Dean into her arms, letting Deans head rest on her shoulder and makes her hold him, it hurts, she can’t avoid any hurting spots and his ribs sing the loudest of his agony. Then the boy starts scrubbing his backside from the shoulders and down. Dean hisses as the soap imitates a very sore spot on his back, and grunts as the sponge runs over it. He hadn’t noticed- when did he- … Dean couldn’t exactly recall when he’d hurt his back… but then it came to him. That first hit with the crowbar in the back when he first met Ray… somehow it seemed so long ago already. Had it even been a day yet?

    The boy wasn’t as gentle as the girl. Dean’s knee was sending agonizing waves through his leg as the boy washed it. There was a mild sting around his right ankle, but it wasn’t as bad as much of the other stuff. The worst was the ass, he’s waited with that till last, and she hadn’t even cleansed his junk in front. Dean begged inside his head for it not to hurt as bad, he grew all the more tense and bit his lip, turning his head to the side even though he knew they couldn’t see his face anyway. He just focused on staying awake, though it was hard. The boy wasn’t gentle in that area at all and it took a lot of effort not to wail in pain. Then he came to the junk and cleansed it swiftly. He threw away the sponge and turns off the water before he grabs Dean’s left arm and helps her with holding Dean up. He’s being lifted out of the shower and the boy takes over holding him and she towels him down, drying him all over the front. And then dries herself. They switch and she’s holding Dean while the boy dries him and himself. the fog on the mirror has mostly disappeared and Dean can see all of his battered body. Slowly he takes note of every injury as he’s being pulled and turned and manhandled, every wound and every scratch or bruise. The one on his back isn’t so bad, but he can still feel it. His swollen eye is one ugly motherfucker. Miss-colored and swollen triple in size at least. He swallows a lump in his throat and closes his tear-glazed eye. He can’t even look at himself. Not like this.

    Dean gets the clothes put on by the two kids. They are having a hard time doing it too. He’s so weak by now, so exhausted and throbbing with pain all over, that he just doesn’t have the energy to even _try_ and put the small amount of clothes on by himself. So he lets them do it.

    Then he blacks out. He thought it was only for a short second, but apparently it wasn’t. He wakes briefly, back in the living room, groggy, hazed and all the loud noises were muffled and it felt like everything went in slow-motion, even when he tried closing his heavy eyelid. A second later he opened the eye back up, or so he’d thought. He wasn’t in the living room anymore. He had been moved and was only briefly awake again in this other, very bright, room. He finds himself to have been placed in some sort of special chair. Like at the dentist’s or something. He hears them talk, only bits and pieces. The sound is zooning in and out all the time. The voices above him, sounds frustrated, angry, hurried and brusque.

    He closes his eye briefly for what only seems like a minute, and wakes in pain sourced from his left knee but is immediately held down in the chair by several sets of hands. He finds that he has a plastic-mask pressed on his face, over his mouth and nose, with something coming out of the tube attached to it. He tries to get it off but he is being held down by a bunch of masked surgeons. Where the hell was he? What were they doing to him? Why was he at surgery? Had Dad come for him? Had he been rescued? Was Sammy there and was he okay? The thoughts seemed to attack his brain in milliseconds while he fought in his panic. He wished he were home with Sam, on a hunt with Dad or just somewhere else, anywhere but here. But he wanted to stay awake, to be able to control himself and not be hurting like he was. But the non-awareness was tempting; there he couldn’t feel the hurt. Slowly he let go just a tiny bit. He couldn’t keep up the fight.

    And in a matter of brutal fighting seconds he was put down under, forced into the blissful state of nothingness and being nowhere at all; thankfully made sleep by the gas in the mask pressed so firmly to his face.

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... Any thoughts ? ..   
> Comments makes me happy .. (;


	15. Not That Long Ago

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few days back, when everything were normal ... well, their kind of normal, anyway. Those days weren't that long ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys ! .. So I'm back again after yet another way-too-long-delay, and I'm sorry about that ..  
> This has just been a f**king terribly crappy year .. I really thought I was gonna update sooner this time, but then one of my friends past away way too young... So... yeah... I can only hope next year will be better ..
> 
> Anyway: This chapter might seem a bit long, which it is, but I hope you like it and I hope you'll leave me a comment .. even if it's just a smily, it'll make me happy ..

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    **_A few days earlier…_**

    There’s a sound. It keeps stopping and beginning. It gets louder and suddenly it finally stops and there’s a sleepy-gruff rumble of a deep voice saying: “Hello?” There’s a pause and the man, sitting up in his bed, is scrubbing his frowning face and sighing. “Yes, this is John Winchester, what’s your problem? How can I help you?”

    “Help me? Wh-… Who are you and how do you know this? ... You just expect me to trust you based on this? ... No. I know my reputation has grown some, but that still don’t- ... Okay. Fine. And you say you are…? Hm. So what happened? ... Mhm. And you’re sure? What else? ... Mm. Mhmm. Uh-huh. Okay, where? I’ll meet you there. I can’t be there right away, it’s gonna take some time, since I’m not in the area. Yeah. And I’m gonna have to make a stop or two on the way. It’ll take a while, so let me know if there is any news... yeah, keep me posted. Good. Okay, bye.” He hung up and threw the phone on the bed.

    John swung his legs over the side of his bed, sighed heavily and scrubbed his face one last time. He glanced at his two sons, really too old and too big to share one bed.

    They were laying with their backs to each other; Dean facing John’s way, sleeping with one arm under his pillow, the other hanging over the side of the bed and he was drooling a bit on the pillow with his slack, open mouth. This tugged a bit at the corners of John’s mouth and made a small smile show on his face. Sam on the other side of the bed had a mess of bed-hair and was snoring loudly. He was rolled up in most of the shared covers. John huffed out a brief, silent laugh at this. He wondered how they could all sleep from that snore. Sam didn’t usually snore, mostly it was either John or Dean, or sometimes both, and Sammy would complain about it and say he couldn’t sleep because of it.

    He should get them up and get them packing. A lead like this wasn’t a chance he’d miss. Couldn’t afford it, not now, not when he was this close.

    Then he remembered; “Oh, right, have to call Jim first.” He probably should tell the sitter that he was babysitting first… or at least ask if he would. Not that he’d say no; he cared much for Sam and Dean too, so he knew he’d say yes any chance he got, and he knew they’d be in good hands.

    He picked back up his phone and dialed the number. He listened and waited for Jim to pick it up, glancing at his still sleeping boys. “Come on Jim. Pick up your damn phone” he whispered under his breath, sighing tiredly.

    Then there was the sound of another tired man’s voice answering: _“Hello?”_

    “Murphy” John said in greeting.

    _“John? Good morning. I’m surprised to hear from you… oh, it’s not even five yet.”_

    “I’m sorry for waking you up, but it’s important.”

    _“Well isn’t it always with you, John? So, what makes you call at this time at night? Are you okay?”_

    “I’m fine”

    _“Are the boys alright?”_

    “The boys are good“

    _“Oh good. How are they doing by the way? Doing well in school too?”_

    “Jim, they’re doing fine!”

    _“Good. So why did you call? Are you in the area? Driving by my way to visit perhaps?”_

    “Yeah, you could say that. Listen, I’ve got a new lead… I need you to look out for my boys while I’m gone.”

    _“New lead? Is it still the same thing you’re chasing?”_

    “Don’t give me that speech again, Murphy! I have to find that son of a bitch and-“

    _“I wasn’t gonna give you ‘that speech’, John.”_

    “Good, because I’m not in the mood for-“

    _“But I am worried about you. You might not be in the mood to hear this, but revenge can have its prize, and it could kill you if you’re not careful, so you’ll have to be smart about what you are going to do. So go to your lead and hear what else you can find out.”_

    “…Yeah. I’ll do that.”

    _“So… How long till you’ll arrive?”_

    “I knew I could count on you”

    _“Of course John. I’m looking forward to seeing you and your boys, as always. It’s been a long time too, they must have grown.”_

    “Yeah, they have. You’ll see when we get there. It’s gonna be a while till we do, though. I think we’ll be there around noon.”

    _“That’s fine, I’ll look forward to see you all again”_

    “Thanks Murphy. I’ll see you later.”

    _“Bye John.”_

    John hung up and sighed heavily. There; the plan was made and now he just needed to get on the road. Breakfast would have to wait; nothing was open at this time of night, so they’d have to eat on the road.

    “Dad?” Sam’s snoring had stopped and John’s youngest son sat up in bed, rubbed his eyes and yawned. “Who were you talking to?”

    John looked at his son. “How long have you been listening, Sam?”

    “Um, I haven’t… I just woke up.” Sam yawned again.

    “Hm. Well, that was Jim Murphey.” John got up from his bed, grabbed his dufflebag and threw it on the bed before he started packing. “Sam I know you just started at this school last week, but don’t give me a hard time about this; I want you and your brother to get up, pack your things and get in the car so we can get on the road, there’s a new lead and I wanna get on the road as fast as possible”

    “Are we changing school again?”

    “Yes, you’re gonna stay at Jim’s and he’ll be teaching you both for a while.”

    “But Dad, I-“

    “No but’s, it’s out of discussion!” John started dressing. “I don’t have time for this right now, so just get to it and start packing your bag.”

    Sam got out of bed, and scowling he started dressing too. “So you’re gonna ditch us again when we’re at Pastor Jims?”

    “Sam” John said in a warning tone, telling him not to start with that again and a look that said the same, as he sat down on the bed and tied his shoes.

    John hated discussing this with Sam every time he went out the door, even hushed as they were right now so Dean wouldn’t wake up to hear them fighting. It was a pretty new thing that Sam kept going at it like this, usually he’d just say ‘okay’ in a disappointed manner and pout sulkily. Why couldn’t he just understand that what he is doing is important and have a purpose? He is doing this for a reason - a damn good reason. He has to do this. Not only to get revenge but to make sure it would never happen to his family ever again; to make sure his family would be safe. … And so no other family would suffer the way his had suffered. He still loved and missed Mary… so much. And he thought of her still, almost every day.

    “How long are you gonna be away this time?”

    “I’m not sure how long it’ll take yet.”

    “Dad, why can’t you just stay home with us for once? You’re never here, not really. When you are it’s never just to be with us, you’re always working. Why can’t you-“

    “People’s lives are depending on me. I have to do this and what I do is important, they need my help”

    “I know they need you but we’re your son’s, Dad! We need you too!”

    “Sam, I really can’t have this discussion with you right now. Pack your stuff, get in the car and don’t ask any more questions! Now” John commanded and picked up his duffle.

    “Dad can’t you just-“

    “End of discussion! Now do as I told you.”

    “Yes Sir.” Sam grumbled and started throwing stuff in his own duffle.

    John turned his back to his son and sighed heavily again as he started walking out to the car. He stopped briefly by the door and said: “And wake your brother up, he can sleep in the car.” Before he opened it fully and closed it behind him.

    Sam huffed out a breath, annoyed at everything and everyone. Why was this his life? Why couldn’t they just be normal like every other family and stay in one town and go to the same school every day like every other normal kids did?

    He looked annoyed at his brother, still sleeping and beginning to snore a bit.

    “Dean, wake up” no response. “Dean wake up!” Sam repeats even more annoyed and throws his pillow at Dean so his snore is interrupted and he wakes up, he pushes himself up on one elbow and turns his head, looking groggily around till his small tired eyes finds Sam.

    “’S it mornin’ already?”

    “Yeah. Dad said to wake you”

    “Where is Dad? Did he leave?”

    “Not yet.”

    “Well, what’s going on? Where is he?”

    “He’s putting his shit in the trunk. Said we need to pack our bags, we’re going to Pastor Jim’s.”

    “Oh. Alright.”

    “ _’Alright’?_ Is that all you have to say? Dad is dumping us at the church and driving off again, don’t you have anything else to say?”

    “Orgh, Sammy… I’m not even up yet, can’t we do this another time?”

    “No, Dean, this is-“

    “Well can we just _not_ do this?” Dean cut him off.

    Sam sent Dean a scowl and made a ‘bitch-face’ as Dean called it, but Sam stopped arguing and just concentrated on packing his gear.

    Dean sighed heavily and lay back down on his back on the mattress and closed his eyes; “Orgh… What day is it?”

    Sam answered with a tone as bitchy and annoyed as he felt: “Thursday, October 20th. 1994. Anything else you’d like to know?”

    “Uh…” He frowned and quirked an eyebrow slightly, “What’s the clock?”

    “Really Dean?”

    “What? ‘M just asking” Dean said, stretching, blinking his eyes back open and sitting up.

    “3.45 am.”

    “At night? Orgh man! Seriously?”

    “Yeah, seriously Dean! Contrary to you I at least tell the truth!”

    “Aw, don’t tell me you’re still mad that I told you the wrong school-day!”

    “Yeah Dean! I’m still mad!”

    “Oh, come on Sammy! It’s been three days already!” Dean complained and got up from his bed and started packing as well.

    “So? It wasn’t you who packed your backpack for the wrong day and got totally humiliated in front of the entire class! And It’s _Sam_!”

    “Come on Sammy-“

    “It’s Sam!” he cut in.

    “Fine… Sam. But seriously dude, we’d been up till late that night, we were both bombed. Besides, it was only _one day_ , and not all the classes were wrong. It really wasn’t that bad”

    “Says you! You weren’t the one in a living hell the rest of the day, and you weren’t the one getting picked on for it the following days!”

    “They’re picking on you? Who is it?”

    “Yeah. Just forget it. Guess it doesn’t matter now anyway, not that it mattered to you before.”

    “Sammy, stop. Of course it matters to me, you’re my brother! I hadn’t meant to tell you the wrong day, I found out later myself”

    “Really? How come _you_ didn’t get picked on then?”

    “I don’t know… my charming smile and good looks?” Dean tried for a joke. But Sam just looked more pissed with him. Dean sighed “What’d you tell them?”

    “The truth!”

    “Huh. Well I just told them I forgot the books for those classes. They just gave me a copy or told me to read with someone else. Why were they picking on you?”

    “Oh, great, so I’m just alone on being the freak then, thanks a lot!”

    “Sammy-”

    “Don’t _‘Sammy’_ me! It’s all your fault!”

    Dean briefly looked like Sam had slapped him, but he didn’t get to say anything as John came back inside. He stepped back in through the door, having been out to put his own gear out in the trunk and stuff, and cut in before Dean could reply: “Boys! Stew your crap. Have you packed your stuff yet? Are you ready to go?”

    “Yes Sir.” They both answered.

    “Good. Now get your butt's out in the car and let’s get moving! I don’t have time for this.”

    Sam mumbled: “Fine. I didn’t like the kids in this school anyway.”

    Dean just sighed; John did too and followed Sam with his eyes, where Dean just looked down at his duffle-bag.

    John’s eyes turned to his eldest son and swiftly gave him an once-over and then he said: “Dean put on some pants.” And John started collecting the salt in the windows.

    Dean cast his eyes down himself briefly and answered: “Yes Sir”, found his pants on the floor beside his boots and pulled them on, pulled his bag on his back, put his feat in his shoes and walked after Sammy out the door without tying his shoes.

    John Sighed heavily again. “This is gonna be a long day.”

***~*~***

    It was quiet in the car. Had been ever since they got in it. Dean and Sam was huddled up in the backseat and it didn’t take long before they both had fallen back to sleep. Now Dean was sitting with his head leaned all the way back, mouth gaping and drooling again, with a protecting arm around Sammy’s shoulders, who was leaned up against Dean and drooling on his brothers shirt with his head on Deans chest.

    John could see them in the rear-view-mirror. It was times like this he knew he’d done right by them; they’d always have each other. No matter what. Through everything and anything, and they’d take care of each other; protect each other. They were good boys. His good boys.

    They had only been driving for about an hour, the clock was a few minutes past five am in the morning. John embraced the silence and enjoyed it as he listened to the car purr and concentrated on his driving and breathed in the calming, familiar smells of the cars leather-seats.

    _‘Now this is a nice way to wake up’_ He thought to himself. The stars were still shining bright from up on the still dark sky and the only other light right now was the light on the road from the Impala’s headlights. _‘The only thing missing is a hot cup of coffee.’_

    Time passed rather fast as he drove mile after mile, and the sun slowly rose and cast light on the former dark skies and let its warm threads of light spread across both the sky and the earth, warming up the world and thawing the dew off the grass and the car like a mother does a tear on a child’s cheek.

    Before John knew it, hours had passed and suddenly it was seven o’clock. Soon he’d have to stop by a diner so his boys could get some food into their stomachs.

    He briefly glanced at them in the rear-view-mirror. Still sound asleep. Dean might get a stiff neck when he woke up again, but they both sure looked content and peaceful like this.

    John turned on the radio and turned it down as not to wake them yet; he’d wait till he pulled in at the parking lot by a diner if he could.

    But in the meantime he’d let the radio make some background noise to his thoughts and maybe let him know how the weather is gonna be like the following days.

    Weather wasn’t on yet, right now it was The News sounding through the speakers. He wasn’t really listening, but somehow his ears still picked up on what was being said.

    Horrible things was on the list of today’s topics; everything from yesterday’s shootings at a school two towns over, to the release of this violent rapist.

    _“After doing his time of only five years in prison, Raymond Hickings is being released back into the world today. He was arrested five years ago this date, charged with the violent rape of the fourteen year old girl, Rebecca Harrison, who took her own life two weeks ago after being informed of her rapists release today. (…)”_

    John tightened his grip on the steering wheel, whitening his knuckles. He didn’t get why they’d ever release a man like that. Or why they didn’t just shoot him. He let out a deep breath and relaxed. He was glad he didn’t have to worry about that kind of stuff too. He had enough on his plate as it was already. Not that he wouldn’t have loved to have a daughter with Mary, but since she was dead there really was no point in thinking about that. And he didn’t think he could bring a girl into this life. She’d have to be an awful lot like Mary. At least he didn’t have to worry about his daughter getting raped by some sick bastard. He was lucky to have his two boys. Though he still wished sometimes that Mary was there to handle some situations with the boys; she always knew just what to do or say.

    Then a sudden thud to the front window (a bird flying directly into it) ripped John from his trail of thoughts and he nearly turned the car out onto the field by the road.

    “Dad, what’s happening?” Dean asked.

    Apparently it awoke his boys too. John turned briefly to look for the bird and swiftly gave his boys a once-over to check if they were okay before he turned his eyes back onto the road. Sam was drying some saliva off of his chin and Dean ignored the wet drool-spot Sam had left on his chest.

    “Nothing. It was just a bird”

    “Did anything happen to the bird?” Sam asked and twisted his small body around to look out through the rear window to look for the bird.

    “It didn’t make it. It probably broke its neck when it flew into the window” John answered.

    “The bird probably didn’t even feel it Sammy. It wouldn’t even know what hit it; it’d be dead on the spot.” Dean continued, always trying to make Sam feel better.

    “I know that. I’m not stupid”

    “Okay, Mister I’m-so-smart, I was just trying to ease your bleeding heart for the bird”

    Sam rolled his eyes. “Jerk.”

    “Bitch” Dean said back at him, but his lips curved up into a small smile as he watched his baby-brother sit back down again. “Hey Dad, how long till we’re there?”

    “A few hours.”

    “A _few_ hours? Dad it’s already been hours since we left!” Sam cut in and complained.

    John sighed again under his breath. But then they drove past a sign informing them that a diner was up ahead.

    “You’re right Sam, but I thought we could use a meal before we continue on the road, so what do you say we make a stop at a diner and get something to eat? Are you hungry?”

    “Yeah, food! Finally!” Dean exclaimed followed by Sam’s loudly rumbling stomach and all three of them braking out in laughter.

    “I’ll take that as a yes, then.” John said with a grin on his face.

    The weather finally came on and John turned the radio up a bit to hear it. The next couple of days would variate between sunny and rainy, but be mostly sunny. It would rain again later today, just like the past two days. They’d been lucky with the weather this morning though, it had stopped raining making room for the sun to shine for the time being, but it would start raining again later.

    John made some turns and music began to stream out of the speakers. Soon they stopped at the parking lot and got out of the car and into the diner where they found some seats at a booth.

    The diner was almost empty. Only two other customers sat in each their corner of the diner.

    The waitress took their orders and soon they were consuming their first meal of the day in comfortable silence and John was reading todays paper. There was an article about that rapist, Hickings, in the paper too. There was no picture, but that wasn’t needed anyway. It was a small article. At the end of it, it said he was going to be interviewed after he was released as a free man. It seemed to be what was on The News on screen of the little TV above the diner-disk. The sound was muted but the man on the screen was obviously making a little speech. The TV was too far away for John to make out the face of the man, but the fat texts under the video said something about ‘rapist’, ‘regrets’ and the rapists name.

    And John didn’t really care about this guy. He had more important things to see to. The survival and training of his sons for one. That was pretty much all he really cared about; his sons safety and getting them prepared for whatever supernatural creatures that might pass their way one day. He wanted them to be able to protect themselves when the day he’d take his last breath would come and he wasn’t there to safe them. 

    John noticed from out of the corner of his eye that Sam was getting up from his seat and that tore him from his thoughts.

    “Where are you going?”

    “Have to pee. I’m just going to the men’s room Dad”

    John gave a nod and let Sam go and do what he had to. He turned his gaze back to the paper and took a sip of his coffee while he read on.

    Dean cleared his throat then.

    “Um, Dad?”

    “Yes, Dean, what is it?” John asked casually.

    “Sammy said we’re going to pastor Jims…”

    “Yes?” John said to let Dean know he was listening.

    “Are you gonna stay with us there?”

    John briefly lifted his eyes from the paper to look in his son’s direction but returned them to where he’d been reading before.

    “No, I’m not. I’ve got a hunt to take care of.”

    “A Hunt? Great… um, Dad? I was wondering…”

    “Yes? … Well spit it out son, what is it?”

    “Maybe… well, Pastor Jim has looked out for us before, and I’m not a little kid anymore, I mean I’m fifteen, so I was just wondering… If… If I could come with you?” he said and bit his lower lip.

    “What?” John asked not really prepared for that question at the moment, and he lowered the paper onto the table to look up at his oldest son.

    Dean nervously started rambling on with reasons why he could be a good sidekick and why he should come.

    “(…) and Pastor Jim can watch over Sammy while we’re gone. It’s perfect. I’ve been training hard and practiced a lot, I’m really good with a gun and I know how to kill a lot of those creatures, I’ve read everything you’ve written in the diary. I’m really not bad at research either Dad, I know my stuff. So… what do you think? Can I come with you?”

    John was still kind of in shock, he was more surprised by this question than he probably should be; he knew it would come up again sooner or later. He just hadn’t expected that to be right now.

    Dean was practically chewing his lower lip in anticipation and his fingers made a nervous fidgeting melody on the top of the table.

    “No”

    Dean stopped fidgeting, let go of his lip and turned his eyes down onto the table. He was obviously profoundly disappointed. But John knew he wouldn’t bother to ask again even though he probably really wanted to. A no was a no. Especially from John. Something in John’s chest twisted and hurt at this sight and at the same time he was proud of his son’s effort, but he didn’t let either of it show.

    “This is not just a normal hunt, son” John decided to explain and Dean looked up into his eyes, listening closely, “I got a new lead at the thing that killed your mother,” Dean looked shocked as his eyes widened a bit, “It’s very dangerous and very powerful. I can’t risk losing you by bringing you along. It’s too dangerous. The thing is too powerful. Besides, you’re not ready yet, Dean. It’s one thing to read about; experiencing those things for real is a very different thing and it didn’t go so well the last time. I can’t bring you along and risk your life.”

    Dean bowed his head and lowered his gaze a bit in thought and a bit in shame. John could see in Dean’s eyes he was thinking about what he’d just been told.

    “I know it’s dangerous, but you risk your life all the time. Dad I know I can do this, just give me a chance. I can help, I know I can, I’m old enough”

    “It is dangerous, and I _am_ risking my life. That’s why I can’t let you come with me. I’ll be fine but I can’t have you coming with and getting hurt or worse. I’m glad you wanna help, but you’re helping plenty watching out for Sam. That’s your job, that’s how you best can help me. And you’re too young.”

    “I get that, Dad, but I’m really not too young, I’m ready I can feel it… I just wanna do what you do… Besides this is what you’ve been training me for; how am I gonna learn this for real if I’m never really trying it out?“

    His son had some damn good points, though he still stood his ground; Dean was still too young and he was gonna tell him that too.

    “Dean I’m not bringing you with! I told you; it’s too risky, especially as your first kill on the hunt. You have a Job already; to take care of Sam, and that is your most important job. Do you understand? You’re just too young and you’re definitely not ready yet and that’s that! Do I make myself clear?”

    Dean gave a hurried but disappointed nod, “Yes Sir.”

    “Good. I don’t wanna hear any more of that.” John ended their conversation with that gruff answer.

    Dean ducked his head and looked down at his feet under the table and was biting his lip again. “No Sir.” Dean answers disappointed.

    John sighs under his breath. Maybe he said that too harshly? He never really knew how to talk with his boys, and once again he found himself wishing Mary could have been here.

    But at the same time, this was his boys, they were going to be strong men someday, and that day was threatening to come rather sooner than later these days, with his teenage son hastily nearing the twenties. He knew there were several years till, yet it felt like it could be any day now, some days. His sons were gonna be fighting these monsters alongside him in no time and Dean was right; he needed to try it out to get the experience to hunt properly.

    So if he’d soon be a young man, he’d be able to take a little harsh talk from his old man now and then. People out there won’t care how they talk to his boys, this will only prepare him. And he really wasn’t ready yet, still too young and vulnerable, though he liked to act all tough. He was really doing him a favor. He was just doing what was best for his boy.

    Sam came back and was about to sit down and interrupt the heavy silence. Before he could sit, though, John stopped him and told his boys to get out in the car, so they could get back on the road. They’d wasted enough time as it is and there were still a couple of hours drive to Murphy’s.

    Sam no doubt noticed the change in the atmosphere and their mood, John could tell by the worried and suspicious face Sam put up without saying anything. Dean’s shoulders were hanging a bit and he looked at the ground with his hands buried in his pockets all the way out to the car like he was deeply ashamed.

    John scolded himself inwardly. He really hated situations like this. But he straightened himself up; he was only protecting his son, doing what was best for him.

    So he unlocked the car-doors, got behind the wheel and listened for the side-doors to open and close, signaling that his boys had gotten in the back seat, before he started the ignition and pulled out of the parking lot and drove back out onto the road.

    More cars started to rush onto the roads. On some roads it was still quiet with only a few to none (besides them) on the long stretch of road. Other roads, like in the cities, big or small, cars filled the roads wherever they looked.

    Dean was teasing Sam on the backseat and Sam teased him right back. That was John’s boys, and he smiled inwardly.

    Neither the sounds of his boys teasing and laughing or the sound of Metallica on the radio pouring out of the speakers could bring him out of his thoughts though. He was still concentrating on driving of course, but he didn’t really hear the other noise that just became background-noise.

    He was deep in thought, preparing for the precautions he’d have to take and the preparations he’d have to make before he met up with his new informant. He couldn’t take any chances so he’d get to the meeting-spot early and prepare in case this was a trap and he’d have to run. He was planning it all now, making a list in his head of all the things he’d need for it and for the possible preparations they’d need to do together if this guy was the real deal. He didn’t trust him. Not yet at least, and he didn’t really trust that many people to begin with.

    Time passed faster with his thoughts all consumed by the tasks and at the same time keeping down the fiery rage in him when he thought about the thing that killed his beautiful wife.

    The teasing on the backseat became fighting and Sam got really mad and shouted scolding at Dean who was laughing at his little brother while pushing him away, trying to not let Sam’s long arms reach him and hit him with his still growing, small-ish fists.

    This noise got through to Johns ears and broke his trail of thoughts so he had to raise his voice and command them to stop what they were doing and sit back down.

    Sam immediately accused Dean of saying something mean to him and John told him to take it as a man and let it go and then he told Dean to apologize and not tease his brother. He saw his sons bow their heads in a mix of shame, disappointment and annoyance, and Sam turned to look out the window as they both Said “Yes Sir.” Dean told Sam sorry, glancing at his baby brother but Sam didn’t look back at him, so he sighed and turned to look out of the window in his own side. Besides from the radio it got pretty quiet in the car again.

    That’s when the News cuts in and tells of an apparent accident with a tow-truck that was stuck in a muddy ditch somewhere.

    John sighs. The roads are slippery wet, only just started to get dry because of the sun’s appearance. The driver of that truck probably lost control on the wet asphalt and slipped into the ditch. It’s not like it never happened to anyone, but it wasn’t that often you’d hear about a _tow-truck_ ending up in a ditch. Usually those were pulling other cars _out_ of the ditches.

    Music came back on again and the boys were still silent. Both still looking bored out of each their window.

    “Are we there yet?” Sam mumbled. 

    “No. But we’ll be there soon.” John told him.

    Sam didn’t say anything to that.

    Time passed, the tires ate up mile after mile and John made a couple of turns to fill the tank of his car. Dean Got into the little kiosk and bought what he calls “vegetables” – Potato chips – that he would share with Sam if he’d have some.

    John put on a cassette tape with Led Zeppelin and Dean and John sang along a bit to one of Dean’s favorite songs. Dean told Sam to light up a bit and continued to sing along. Sam just rolled his eyes and yet again wondered how he was related to those two.

    John didn’t sing along often, rarely actually. He didn’t do it for long now either; he focused back on the road and knew it wasn’t far away now. They drove through some forest and soon they could see the church was up ahead.

    “Finally” Sam sighed.

    He wanted to get out of the car and it’d be nice to see Pastor Jim again. So Sam was fast to jump out of the car and go to the steps by the entrance to the church, where Pastor Jim stood, waiting for them with a big smile on his face. John called out his name but Sam was already closing the door and on his way to greet their family friend.

    Pastor Jim spread out his arms in a warm greeting of Sam and gave him a hug when he came close enough.

    From the car they could see Jim and Sam talking. John knew by the looks of it that Jim was certainly telling Sam how much he’d grown since the last time he’d seen him.

    “Dean, I don’t know how long I’ll be gone yet. In the meantime, nothing has changed; you still have to watch out for Sammy, rules are the same, you understand?”

    “Yes Sir.” Dean said.

    “Good. Now go grab you and your brother’s stuff.”

    “Yes Sir.” Dean answered again and got out of the car.

    Sam and Jim were on their way over to the car while Dean opened the trunk. When they reached the car Dean had pulled out the duffle-bags and was shutting the trunk and he goes to greet Pastor Jim and gets a hug too and Jim tells him how much he’s grown since the last time, saying he’s on his way to become a young man already. Dean doesn’t say much but he tells Jim it’s good to see him too.

    John rolls down the window at the passenger-side and says his good byes to his boys.

    “You two be good now. Do what Jim says, he’s in charge while I’m gone, so be nice to him, don’t give him any trouble, okay? Dean, you know where your rooms are, go unpack, take Sam with. I’ll see you. And I’ll call when I know how long I’ll be gone.”

    “Yes Sir.” They both answered.

    “Take care, Dad” Dean added before he turned around, put an arm over Sammy’s shoulders and started walking inside. “Come on Sammy, let’s go unpack.”

    Jim stayed, and levelled himself with the car window, resting his hands on the door.

    “They’re in good hands, John, I’ll take good care of them till you come back. They are good boys. You don’t need to worry.”

    “Yeah I know, Jim, I know. How do you always know what I’m about to say?”

    “We’ve known each other for a long time now John. I pick stuff up too.” Jim says and winks at John.

    “Of course you do.” John says with a small smile. “This lead I’ve got… I don’t know him, haven’t heard of him before. Donald McGraw ring any bell to you?”

    “No, can’t say they do. Where did you meet him?”

    “Haven’t met him yet, called me a short while before I called you.”

    “Oh, I see.”

    “I’m on my way to meet up with him, but I’m going to get there before him to set up some things, in case he isn’t who he says he is.”

    “You can never be too careful”

    “So if he’s who he say’s he is and this lead isn’t a trap, he has some intel on the thing that killed Mary. I’m gonna learn everything he knows and then I’m gonna go after it. If things go south and I don’t come back I want you to take care of my boys.”

    “John-“

    “Look I know it’s a lot to ask, but I really need to do this. I have to. I know my boys will be in good hands with you. They know you and trust you. That’s important.”

    “I could never just throw them out on the streets, you know that John, but it really isn’t up to me either, the government would surely have something to say about it”

    “Murphy, if I die-”

    “You won’t. Don’t talk like that, that might just get you hurt. I’ve seen you out there, I know what you are capable of, and you know what to expect from those creatures. You know this one is a powerful one and possibly a lot stronger than others you have encountered. Just remember to have your brains in it too, learn everything you can about this thing. Then I know you’ll make it.”

    John knew he was right, negative thoughts didn’t help him at all, but this thing was strong and there was always a risk. He just needed to know his boys would be safe. So they exchanged knowing glances, his eyes conveying a silent “thank you” to Jims.

    That’s when the radio News begins again. It’s something about that truck again.

    “I know where that road is, it’s about two days from here.” Jim says, also listening to the radio.

    John turns it up a notch so they can hear what’s being said.

    _“(…) what was earlier assumed an accident is now believed to be murder. Two bodies were found in the truck; an elderly male, about his mid-seventies or older was believed to have died of a heart attack and a young male about his late twenties (…)”_

    The young dude had apparently been beat up before he got in the driver’s seat, bumps and blood on the side of the truck and as the tow-truck had crashed in the ditch by a tree that had crushed the front view window, a piece of glass had gotten stuck in the poor guy’s head and killed him. The tow truck had somehow been pushed into the ditch at the road.

    _“(…) If anyone have seen or heard anything to do with this event, you are to call the police or this number and tell your information: 555 63… (…)”_

    “Murder. This is terrible. I will pray for their families and light a candle for them.” Jim says with sympathy for the men’s loved ones.

    “You do that Murphy. I better get back on the road; I still have a lot to do before I meet up with McGraw. I’ll see you soon. Take good care of my boys, I know they’ll behave.”

    “Of course. Be careful now John. I Will, your boys and I will be waiting here for you when you come back.” Jim said pointedly, like a reminder.

    “I’ll see you Jim” John said and rolled back up the window and he gave a short wave to Jim before he pulled out and got back on the road and raced away with his tasks at hand on his mind and a relieved feeling in his chest from knowing his boys would be safe while he was gone. Now he could focus on his tasks only, and he set out on his quest determined to go and get that bastard creature and give it what it deserved and he hoped McGraw was the real deal, otherwise he’d get what’s coming to him as well.

    “I’ll get this monster Mary, I’ll get it.”

***~*~***

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, leaving Dean hanging where I left him last chapter for this little piece of knowledge of how they were a few days before it all came crashing down on Dean.... What are your thoughts on that ? .. And did you like this little break from all that misery ? ..


	16. The Ghoul Hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John has just dropped Dean and Sam off at Pastor Jim's. But everything isn't as normal as it should be and Dean discovers that there is a case in town... Now The hunt of the Ghoul goes begins!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO! .. :D Finally I'm back with a new chapter for you guys! .. Again I'm insanely sorry for the delay of the update. Grief had taken hold on me at first, my Muse got a blackout and i suffered from a writers-block for a little while and then came the holidays, so, as you can imagine; it has not been easy ..  
> Anyway! .. I didn't upload for two months, so here is a long one and it fills two long chapters space (or a few smaller ones), so you'll have to decide for yourself if that's a good or a bad thing when you read it .. XD But do tell me if you think it's too long; then I'll try not to make another one as long as this one another time .. I hope you like it ..
> 
> Also a specific apology to Talida; I told you the up date would be: "definitely before January" which clearly it was not .. I'm sorry .. It was at least 6 days overdue .. but now at least it's here and I hope that's gonna be okay .. (;
> 
> Thank you for all the great comments, I'm amazed to have such awesome readers as you guys .. (:

* * *

***~*~***

    Dean and Sam had just made each their bed in the two separate rooms they always got here. That was both the best thing _and_ the worst thing about their stay at Pastor Jim’s.

    They both enjoyed having a whole room for themselves, even small as they were. Just getting to sleep through the night without waking up to a snore or being pushed out of bed when they shared one bed and not getting poked every other second for snoring; that was a relief.

    But to Dean at least, it was horrible too; it was nice having “their own room” and all, but it wasn’t really _their_ rooms and they were sparsely decorated. But the worst thing was that Dean couldn’t see his baby brother like this, he can’t look through the walls, and it somehow stressed him out that he couldn’t keep an eye on him when they were in each their room, sometimes he couldn’t sleep because of it.

    Ever since the Shtriga went after Sam and he didn’t protect him, ever since that night (after John had saved Sam from the creature and scolded Dean till he felt like he wasn’t taller than a fingernail is thick), Dean had doubled up his focus on Sam; keeping a better eye on him, making sure he was always okay, and he practically never left his side.

    Sam sometimes wanted to be alone, hell Dean wanted that too sometimes, but he couldn’t leave Sam out of his sight for too long, so he pretended to leave Sammy to himself but mostly he weren’t farther away than he could either see or hear what Sam was doing or he’d let him have his space but not for that long, or at maybe just be in hearing distance so if Sam should call for help, he could be get there in time. Except for the times when they were at school or he got to go with their Dad on a hunt, which wasn’t often lately, or at least got to help out on one; those times he had to leave Sammy behind alone. But Dad had started to bring them both a bit though just not on this kind of hunt he’s on now.

    So having that wall between them was truly the hardest thing. But he tried not to let it show and stay casual. After all, Pastor Jim was there to look out for them too and he knew they were safe here.

    After making his bed, Dean went to check on Sam, but Sam met him at the door so they just walked to the kitchen where they waited for Pastor Jim to finish talking to their Dad and come meet them in the kitchen.

    Sam sat down and Dean started making tea and coffee and found some chocolate-cookies in a jar. Dean poured some of the cookies out of the jar onto a plate and placed them in front of Sam on the table and they started in on them while they waited; they knew Jim didn’t mind.

    Dean poured Sam a cup of tea and coffee for Jim and himself. Sammy of course commented on that.

    “You’re having coffee?”

    “Yeah, so?”

    “But Dean, you don’t drink coffee”

    “Sure I do”

    “Oh yeah? Since when?”

    “Since now. Shut your face and drink your tea”

    “You can’t tell me what to do”

    “Just did.” Dean says with a smirk.

    “You’re an asshole”

    “ _Now is that any way to speak in God’s house? I should wash your foul mouth with soap!_ ” Dean said in a mocking imitation of a shocked priest that had said the same thing to Dean in front of Sam in another church once. It was in the town they’d been in last month, when Dean had argued about something with Sam while Dad was talking with one of the other priests in private.

    “Jerk” Sam said smiling and rolling his eyes.

    “Bitch” Dean said laughing and his laughter made Sammy laugh as well.

    Time passed. Waiting became boring and they’d soon finished off the cookies and what was in their cups. Dean poured Sam a new cup of tea and Sam sighed deeply.

    Finally Pastor Jim comes into the kitchen. “I am sorry I left you boys waiting for so long, but I still have to attend to my job; a grieving man came after your Dad left and needed to talk. It’s odd; he seemed very baffled when I told him it was normal to miss their loved one after they’d passed away. He said he feels like he’s seeing one of his loved ones that passed away last week. The burden of grieving can be hard to bear” Jim sighed and took a sip of his coffee. He made a face.

    “Sorry, your coffee must have gone cold while we waited for you.” Dean said.

    “It’s fine, I will just refill it.” Jim said with a mild face and went to the sink to empty his cold cup of coffee so he could refill it and sat back down with the boys.

    They sat there and talked for a while till Jim asked if they had any homework they could work on. Sam said he did, and got all excited and started to talk about the project they’d been working on at school and asked if Jim wanted to see it. He did but asked Dean if he had something. Dean reassured Jim he wasn’t gonna get bored but said he’d just take out the trash before he started in on it.

    Of course Pastor Jim accepted this and laid a friendly hand on Dean’s shoulder as he passed him and said he was a good kid, and then he followed Sam to go see what he’d been working on in school.

    Dean smirked and huffed for himself. He might have worked on them if they’d stayed back there, but now that they were at Pastor Jim’s he didn’t see the point. He wasn’t gonna do his homework. Why would he when they weren’t going back to that school anyway? But it wasn’t a complete lie; he wasn’t gonna get bored and he was gonna take out the trash.

    He closed off the trash-bag from under the sink, put on his jacket and walked outside to throw it out. After that he thought about working on his hunting skills, that was homework too in a way. So he walked out back behind the church to get started but stopped when he heard someone cry.

    He looked around. At first he couldn’t see anyone and he wondered if he should just find another place to work on his skills and let the person be, or if he should go check on whoever it was, but then he walked around a bush and saw an old lady sitting on a bench; all alone and crying with her old face in her wrinkly hands.

    She suddenly looked up at Dean as he rounded the corner of the bush, making Dean freeze in his movement. She was staring shocked at him, then embarrassed she turned her face down and away and tried not to cry as she tried to wipe away the tears from her sad features with a finely embroidered white handkerchief and said with a weak, wavering, cracking voice:

    “I-I’m sorry, I thought I was alone”

    “I’m sorry Mam. I didn’t mean to disturb you. I, uh, I just heard you crying and thought I’d check if you were okay?”

    “Oh. It’s so n-nice of you.”

    “Um. I can leave you alone if-“

    “No, it’s okay. It can’t be healthy to sit and cry your eyes out all alone like th-that anyway. Would a nice young man l-like you consider sitting with an old lady like m-me for a little while? It seems I could u-use the company” she sniffled with a small, polite though sad smile.

    “Uh, yeah, of course.” Dean said surprised that she wanted the company after shying her crying face away from him. His legs walked to the bench almost by themselves and he sat down on the bench beside the sad old lady.

    “Thank you.” she said to him and turned her wrinkly, sad, teary eyes on him. She had a kind face. Sad, wrinkly and wet of tears, but a very kind face, and light blue eyes and curly white hair.

    “No problem.” Dean answered kindly.

    They just sat there in silence and the lady bowed her head as her kind eyes filled with more tears.

    “Um... I don’t wanna pry or anything and I think I could guess why you’re here, but… can I ask why you’re sitting here _alone_ and mourning by yourself?”

    “Oh, it’s okay dear. I was nearby. I needed the time alone I suppose… and I think I might be losing my mind…” her voice cracked at the last bit of her sentence.

    “Why would you think that? Don’t you have anyone you can talk to about it?”

    “Oh, dear, I’m too old for them to think anything but my age catching up to me. I’d just be deemed senile and be sent off to some elder-home, or folks around here would think I wasn’t in my right mind anymore…. That thought has actually crossed my mind.”

    “I don’t know about that. You seem pretty sane to me.”

    “Oh, you’re very kind” she said with a small laugh with a slight tone of offence, but she still looked as sad as before.

    “Uh, sorry, I meant-”

    “No, no, it is quite alright my dear; I know how you meant it.”

    “Alright… But why would anyone think that about you? Why would you think something like that yourself? – If you don’t mind me asking?”

    “It’s a long story, dear; surely you wouldn’t want to listen to a long story by such an old woman, I could be your grandma’ you know”

    “No, I don’t mind, I’ve got time. So if you need to talk I have some very listenable ears” he tried for a smile.

    She laughed again at his comment. A bubble-ish happy laugh accompanied by a sweet smile, half covered by her right hand and her handkerchief. Dean smiled a tiny bit at making her laugh, that suited her features a lot better.

    She agreed to tell Dean, because obviously she needed to tell someone. Someone who’d listen and hopefully not think she’s crazy with grief or getting too old, though she didn’t think there was much chance that he wouldn’t. So she told him anyway and he listened:

    The sweet old lady told him that this morning had been quite alike the past many mornings she’s had. She’d made her breakfast and coffee and enjoyed it in her kitchen while not really listening to the radio that was on, just sitting consumed in her own sad thoughts. Then she’d feed her little dog, Puchy, it had been her daughter's, but she found it was a comfort to her to have it around. After that she’d go for a walk in the woods with Puchy, like they usually did.

    “And that’s where the weird part comes in… Puchy is usually the sweetest dog, but she started barking and growling, showing her teeth and then her tail was between her legs and she was trying to get away. My old arthritic pained hands couldn’t hold her and she ran off scared, into the woods, I couldn’t find her again. That’s when I saw her…” The lady was now staring into thin air for a moment before she came back to herself, “just standing there and looking at me. I almost had a heart attack but she ran away too. I couldn’t believe my eyes…”

    “Who did you see in the woods?”

    “My daughter…” she looked sad and scared as she stared at her shaking hands holding the fine white handkerchief.

    “Okay. Well that doesn’t sound so weird. Was there something weird about her? Like did she look dead or something?”

    “Was there!? She looked perfectly healthy! And that _is_ weird; I buried her three months ago” she started to cry again, but was still trying not to.

    “Oh…” Now Dean regretted the ‘did she look dead’ remark very much and made a brief grimace.

    “I knew it, I must have gone crazy after she died” she cried.

    “No, I don’t think you’re crazy at all. Maybe it was someone who really looked like your daughter? Or um... You know how folks say everyone’s got a double-ganger somewhere in the world? It could be that… doesn’t mean you have to be crazy”

    “You really think that could be who I saw? Her double-ganger?”

    “Yeah, I do.” _‘In the form of a supernatural creature maybe’_ Dean thought to himself. “But what happened, what did you do then?”

    ”Oh, well. I tried to follow her, but she was gone so fast… I couldn’t find her and I started looking for little Puchy again but I couldn’t find her. I was so shook up that I came here, it was luckily nearby anyway. I couldn’t go to her grave alone… that’s why I’m sitting here… I didn’t know where else to go.” Her blue eyes were wet and full of sorrow and confusion.

    Dean now had a better understanding of her situation, but he was still curious and knew there might be something he still needed to know if this was a case, this was part of the research he knew; part of the job. So he asked:

    “Um Mam? I’m so sorry to hear you had to bury your daughter, and I don’t wanna pry but… what happened to her? Why’d she die?”

    “It’s quite alright dear… she got really sick… with cancer. But before she could even start on her treatment, they found a tumor in her brain. They tried to operate but something went wrong and my baby-girl died. She was only 33 years old… It’s now been three months since I buried her, I still miss her so much…” the lady started sobbing and covered her face again with the white handkerchief and both her hands.

    “I’m so sorry” Dean didn’t know what else to say to comfort her. He tried to think of something but nothing came to mind. But he’d made her cry again, so he wanted to comfort her. He scooted a little closer and awkwardly tried to figure out what to do. He slipped his tongue out over his lips briefly and bit his lower lip. Then he just placed his hand on the top of her back and rubbed it soothingly, like he would with Sam when he was sad, except he’d be hugging him too while doing it, but he couldn’t do that to this stranger.

    It helped and the lady slowly stopped sobbing.

    “Thank you dear, it’s most kind of you to comfort me.”

    “Don’t mention it”

    She looked up at him with thankful eyes, like it meant the world to her; “You are a very sweet boy”

    Dean Just smiled up at her and got a little smile in return. Dean thought for a moment. Then he said:

    “Well, now I’ve heard your story, Mam, but I still don’t think you’re crazy.” He gave her a little smile with that statement.

    She seemed surprised and relieved, and her eyes were full of thankfulness but still held a little doubt. “Thank you” she almost whispered. They sat there quietly for a moment. Then she looks down at her hands and saw the time on her watch. She made a slight jump and says: “Oh Lord, I hadn’t realized how fast the hours passed by! I have to get on home, I am having company later and I want to bake something nice for when they come. And now I have to call it in that my Puchy ran away. Oh how busy one can get in just one afternoon…” she turned back to Dean and looked him in the eye. “Thank you, for listening to me and talking with me, I really needed that.”

    “No problem, Mam.” Dean said with a slight smile.

    “Oh, it is something, dear. I thought I was gonna be alone with this weight on my shoulders, but then you came along just when I needed it. God must have heard me and sent his angels. I believe we were meant to meet, you and I. It must be faith; you were meant to comfort me.”

    “Oh, I don’t know about that.”

    “Well what else do you think it could be?”

    “Just a lucky coincidence I guess” Dean said and scratched his neck a bit.

    “God works in mysterious ways my dear, and I’m sure it was his will that lead you to comfort me”

    Dean huffed a bit of a laugh and his cheeks flushed a bit. He didn’t believe that, but on the other hand… he’d heard Jim preach about God having many tools to do his work or something like that, meaning both angels and humans. _‘Maybe that was what she meant? Who really knows anyway, right?’_

    “I don’t have much to give you for your kindness, but I do have one thing in my bag I think you might like”

    “No, you don’t have to give me anything, really, I-“

    “I insist.” She said sternly but kind.

    “Oh-okay” was all Dean could say to that.

    “Now this isn’t much, compared to what you have given me, but I hope you like chocolate” she said and pulled out a candy bar from her bag.

    “I really can’t take your candy, Mam”

    “Young man, I _insist_.” She said with a stern look that said she wouldn’t take no for an answer.

    Dean smiled, said: “Thanks Mam, it’s very kind of you.” and took the candy bar. She took his hand in hers, gave it a light squeeze while looking him happily in the eyes.

    “You’ll be a good priest one day” she said and went on her way saying goodbye before Dean could tell her he wasn’t gonna go that way. He huffed a little laugh to himself as she walked away. He couldn’t believe she thought that about him. _‘But I guess it’s nice to have options…’_ He shook his head to get the goofy smile off his face, he wouldn’t want Sam to see him like that and ask about it. Then he thought about the sweet lady’s story again. He had to tell Pastor Jim and Sammy right away. So he ran back inside.

    When he gets inside and finds Sam, he asks him where Pastor Jim is.

    “He’s in the confessional. Why are you looking for him?”

    “Cause I think I found a case! And I think Pastor Jim already knows there is a case!” Dean said and hurried to find Jim.

    “What? But Dean – Dad wouldn’t – Dean Wait!” Sam called after his older brother and hurried to follow him.

    They both slowed down and hushed their voices when they entered the big room of the church.

    “Dean, how do you know?”

    “I just talked to a traumatized lady outside”

    “About what? What makes you think there’s a case?”

    “She saw her daughter who died three months ago.”

    “She’s grieving; a lot of grieving people thinks they see their dead loved ones.”

    “Yeah, that’s what Pastor Jim said about that man he talked to after Dad left, remember?”

    “Yeah, maybe because he’s grieving”

    “No Sam, this is real, I just know it“

    “You mean you hope it is?”

    “What? No!”

    “How do you know?”

    “I just do, okay.” Dean looked around the big room. “I thought you said Pastor Jim was in here?”

    “He is. I told you; he’s in the confessional. Why do you think he knows about a case? He lives here, wouldn’t he just take care of it right away?”

    “Maybe not. Let’s find out” Dean said and started walking towards the confessional-box but Sam hurried in front of him to stop him:

    “No Dean, wait! You can’t go in there! There’s probably someone in there, confessing right now!”

    “Well what do you want me to do? How else am I gonna talk to him about this?”

    Then one door opened and a man stepped out while saying “Thank you father, God bless you” and he closed the door behind him. Dean smiled and pushed past Sam.

    “Dean!” Sam whined after him and could only watch as his brother hurried to the small space the man just left, before a woman, wanting to actually confess, could get there first.

    Dean uttered a silent “excuse me” as he passed her and got in, closed the door and sat down. He called it ‘the closet’ in his mind because of the tight space that didn’t have much more room than a big closet with hard wood chairs inside.

    “I need to talk to you,” Dean said, going straight to the point; “we have a case”

    “Dean? What are you doing?” Jim was surprised.

    On the other side of the door Dean could hear the hushed voice of his baby-brother apologizing on his behalf, making excuses for him to calm the woman whose time he just took.

    “How long have you known?”

    “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re-“

    “You know what I’m talking about, and you're a priest; you mustn't lie! You _know_ ” Dean said and waited for Jim to respond.

    After a moment, Jim sighed and agreed that he knew.

    “So how long?” Dean asked again.

    “A few days now. I know you want to talk about this Dean, but I’m working right now-“

    “Yeah but you have another job too! We have a case here and I think-“

    “Dean, I can’t discuss the job with you, your Dad would not be happy about that and I have to do this job first.”

    “No, no, I’ve been helping my Dad with Jobs before, I know I can help. This job is important”

    “I know my boy. It is important but this job is important too. Go wait for me in the kitchen and we’ll talk when I’m done here.”

    “But Pastor Jim, the case-“ Jim cut him off:

    “Can wait. The case will still be there when I’m done here, surely you can wait till then.” Jim said, every word said in the same mild tone of his gentle voice. “If you’re not here to confess, I’m afraid you’ll have to wait for me.”

    Dean sighed. “Alright… You know where to find me.”

    “I’ll find you as soon as I can, then we will talk”

    Dean just nodded and slipped out of the closet silently. The woman from before glared at him but he gestured to the tight space he’d just been in to tell her it was free now so she could use it and her glare softened a bit before she stood up again and went inside.

    “So what did he say?” Sam asked curiously.

    “He told me to wait in the kitchen…” Dean mumbled and walked to the kitchen to wait like he’d been told and Sam followed him.

    Sam asked about the case but Dean said he’d tell them both when Jim joined them. They waited and the minutes passed.

    Dean was consumed with his own thoughts. The job was to help people, he wanted to do that. He wanted to stop this thing from traumatizing more people, people like the sweet old lady from outside. His eyes went to the window. He hadn’t noticed it before, but it had started raining.

    “Dean?”

    “Huh?” Sam’s voice dragged him from his thoughts.

    “This case thing… what do you think Dad would say?”

    “Dad? I don’t know… The job is to help people, right? That’s what Dad always says, now Dad’s not here to do this job, but we still have Pastor Jim, and I think he could use a hand or two” Dean said.

    He hoped he’d get to help with this one. Dad had said no the last couple of times and seemed somehow disappointed in him… had been tougher on him ever since that Shtriga. But this could be his chance. His chance to show his Dad that he was good enough and he could do this. Sometimes he didn’t like the job and a part of him wanted to just stop and start living a normal life, like Sam sometimes talked about. But he couldn’t say that to Dad. He was disappointed enough as it was. Dean just wanted to prove himself to him, show him he wasn’t a screw up all the time and he could do this. He just wanted to make him proud, even if he was gonna make him mad first. It would be worth it.

    _“Two_? You want _me_ to help too?” Sam asked incredulously.

    “Yeah of course. Team-work and all that; we’ll do this job together. Besides, Pastor Jim will be right there with us the whole time, he’s done a lot of jobs by himself so nothing can go wrong, right?” Dean wasn’t stupid, he wouldn’t just abandon the 24-hours-never-ending-job he’d always had and if he did his Dad would be furious. Dean couldn’t do that regardless, he’d worry too much. It was his most important job at all times: _Watch out for Sammy._ He could hear Dad say it, even now.

    So, if he was to do this job he had to have Sam do it too; he couldn’t both stay here to watch over him _and_ be out there to stop the thing. It’d be even worse if they went for the thing and it went after Sammy back here. He couldn’t let that happen so he’d have to have Sam come with them.

    Sam looked like he didn’t know what to think about that. Just a few years ago he’d be ecstatic that he got to go too or got to help even a little. But the Job was hard and the stories were nightmares coming to life. Dad did the job all the time and he trained them both to be able to do the same one day. Sam got more and more upset with their way of life. His enthusiasm had become lesser with time and he talked more and more about ‘normal’. Maybe he didn’t know if he wanted to be part of the job? Dean sometimes wished Sam hadn’t been so smart or curious to read the diary, if he’d just been a regular stupid kid he could have stayed a child a little longer… closer to ‘normal’ he guessed. But that wasn’t the case. He wasn’t a grown up yet, not even close ‘cause he was still a big child like he was himself, but he’d lost more of that childish side than Dean had hoped.

    Sam pondered on what Dean had said for a moment and before he could answer, Pastor Jim finally came to the kitchen and sat down beside Dean again.

    “Okay, now I’m done, go on and tell me what you have figured out so far” Jim said.

    “Right, so… Uh, I was outside after throwing out the trash and I met this lady, she told me about something that happened to her earlier today. She’s walking her dog, uh, Puchy I think, in the woods somewhere nearby and she saw her daughter. Both the daughter and the dog runs away so she came here…”

    “What’s so weird about that?” Sam asked.

    “I’m getting to that… So, guess what; she buried her daughter three months ago! She died in the doctors hands when they tried to remove a tumor and she was sick with cancer.”

    Jim frowned and looked him in the eyes. “Three months ago? The time of death variate’s a lot for every victim, as does the cause of death.”

    “Variates? How much?”

    “Between a week and four months roughly. And you say the girl died of cancer? The man from earlier, well his son was in a gang and got shot. He wasn’t even sick. And I talked with another man just before I talked to you back there; his brother was born eighteen years after him, now he died last month in his early twenties, he was in an accident.” Jim explains.

    “Hmm. So what do all of those have in common? Or did...” Dean says and thinks. “Besides being dead that is. We know they were all dead when they were seen, somehow alive…”

    “What about their ages?” Sam adds. Both Jim and Dean looked at him at that and he explained: “You said it was a son and a daughter and a guy in his twenties, right? So the age-span reaches between the twenties to maybe the forties or something depending on the parent’s ages.”

    They just stared at him for a second. Jim smiled and said that was a good observation.

    “Good job Sammy. The daughter was 33. So uh… What else? They all had a relation to an old person?”

    “No, not all of them: four others told similar stories, some were in the thirties and one was in her twenties.”

    “Alright… but they were all related to the diseased one they each told about, right?” Dean asked.

    “Hm. No actually not, two of them were just friends and one only knew the dead person but had been bullied by him through the school years. He was really traumatized at seeing the deceased alive again.”

    They discussed this for quite a while and the weather worsened, the rain poured down harsher and the drops hammered against the windows and ceilings.

    Sammy’s stomach started growling at one point and Dean continued the conversation but got up and went through the kitchen cabinets to find some food he could make to fill their stomachs.

    Jim got up too and stopped Dean. “I’ll do that, go sit down with Sam and I’ll fix us something warm to eat.”

    Dean felt weird about just sitting down and doing nothing; He was always the one to make Sam food. Sometimes he even made food for both of them and Dad, but mostly they just bought something, like burgers or sandwiches, or something to make it themselves. It wasn’t exactly new territory he was just used to do it, but usually when they came here or at Bobby’s he didn’t have to make dinner, so he just acted casual and sat down across of his brother and let Jim make the dinner. And he had to admit it was nice to not have to take care of it for once.

    Soon dinner is ready and they enjoy the warm meal. After dinner Dean is about to collect the empty bowls but Jim stops him again and tells him he’ll do that himself when the two of them are going to bed.

    “But what about the hunt? Shouldn’t we-“ Dean starts but Jim just shakes his head.

    “We don’t know enough yet. We still don’t know what this thing is, or how to stop it.”

    “That’s why we have to do research”

    “Yes, it is. But once I know I’m going after it alone, I can’t-“

    “ _Alone?”_ Dean cut him off, “No, we’re coming with”

    “No, you’re not. We don’t know how many there are out there, and I have the responsibility for the both of you, your father would murder me if something happened to either one of you boys.”

    “What? Come on Pastor Jim, you can’t take us off the case. This is my hunt too, I got some of the information and both Sam and I are helping with the research and Sammy categorized some of those things we’ve talked through already, it’s _our_ hunt now, not just yours; we’re a part of this too.”

    Jim frowned in thought and Sam looked like he didn’t know what to think. He was probably a bit surprised at Dean’s eagerness at being part of this hunt. He was eager to help Dad too, but he’d never have talked like this to Dad. Dean did lower his head a bit in shame at that, but he still believed he was right and if he was to prove himself to Dad then he had to be part of this.

    “I don’t think it’s a good idéa Dean. I can’t imagine what your father would do to me if one of you got as much as a scratch, it’s a dangerous job.”

    “It’s okay, we’ve helped Dad before and I’ve been on hunts with Dad”

    “I’m afraid I’ll have to tell you no, son. It’s simply too dangerous and we don’t know enough about it yet. We wouldn’t be able to hunt the thing today anyway. I’m sorry, but it is what it is.”

    Dean was disappointed but didn’t argue anymore. Jim told them to go and get ready for bed and get some sleep. So they both did as they were told and said goodnight when they left the kitchen.

    Sam was first to the bathroom to brush his teeth and Dean joined him. When Sam was done he asked Dean why he wanted to be part of this hunt so much. Dean just shrugged and spat before rinsing his mouth. Sam asked him to tell him.

    “It doesn’t matter Sammy, Jim won’t have us going with him anyway. You don’t need to think about it. Right now you just need to go catch some shut-eye so you can look alive and feel rested tomorrow when I’m gonna torment you.” Dean said with a chuckle in his voice at the last part where he also put his arm around Sam’s shoulders, starting to lead him towards their rooms, tightening the grip to an arm-lock and using the other hand to give him a noogie briefly so Sam laughed too and whined at Dean to stop. When Dean let go Sam started to hit Dean playfully and Dean ran off with Sam at his heels. Only stopping by their room doors, he messed up Sam’s hair and Sam gave him a last soft punch at the chest. They laughed and said goodnight before closing each their own door. 

    Dean couldn’t sleep at first. His thoughts were still about the hunt when it wasn’t about Sam’s absence of the room. After two hours he gave up and pulled his gear from his bag; starting to clean every one of his weapons. Dad might leave them alone at motels and stuff, but he didn’t leave them unprotected. They had their own guns and knives and they knew how to use them. Dad had taught them.

    He pondered on that a bit. Dad taught them those things, but because of his mistakes he wasn’t allowed to come with. He knew there was no room for mistakes on a hunt, so in that way he understood why; he might risk both their lives if something went wrong. But at the same time he just didn’t get it; he had been training so hard lately but nothing could make him consider taking him with him. He was good with a bow, he was good with knives and he always hit the bullseye with his guns. He tried so hard to show his Dad that he can be good on a hunt, but nothing really seemed to work... just because of a few earlier mistakes. Okay, maybe a bit more than a few, he’d just hit a wall of bad luck at the time. But things were better now. They seemed a lot better at least. And this hunt could actually prove it to him if he just got the chance.

    But a no was a no. And Jim obviously didn’t want him with him either. One’d think he jinxed the whole hunt or something. He just felt so ready. He knew he could make his Dad proud if he did this right… He just wished they’d give him the chance.

    When Dean finished cleaning his weapons and packing it all back down he was finally tired enough to sleep and he fell asleep soon after he closed his eyes under the blankets with his head on the thin pillow.

*~*~*

    Next day Dean awoke to the sound of the creaking door opening slowly. Dean opened his eyes slowly and got aware that someone was sneaking in on him. He grabbed his gun under his pillow and just before he’d have pulled the gun from its place under the pillow, he let go of it and caught his brother as he was trying to jump him on his bed.

    Dean locked him in a new arm lock and gave him another noogie. “What did I tell you Sammy?” Dean laughed, and Sam laughed too and whined for him to stop and that it wasn’t fair.

    When Dean let go and they sat up on the bed Sam asked how he knew; he was trying to be so silent. Dean just smiled and said he always knew. He didn’t tell him that the creaking door woke him up.

    “Anyway, Pastor Jim asked me to wake you up. It’s ten o’clock and he’s made eggs and bacon on toast.” Sam told Dean and got up. “Are you coming?”

    “Yeah sure, I’ll be right there. Who can say no to bacon anyway?” Dean smiled at Sammy who smiled back and left to wait for him in the kitchen. Dean sighed, dragged the palms of his hands over his face, yawned and stretched his arms and back before he got up and pulled on some clothes and followed his brother to the kitchen.

    Jim wasn’t in the kitchen, but the plates with food were on the table by the seats they’d taken yesterday. Sam was stuffing his face and Jim had apparently already eaten if the dirty dishes by the sink were anything to go by.

    “Where’s Jim?” Dean asked and scratched his head as he sat down and started eating.

    “I’m not sure… He said something about old books and that he’d be right back.”

    Sure enough, as Dean finished off his breakfast Pastor Jim returned with a few thick, dusty books.

    “I’m not sure yet what this thing could be. But I’m sure those books would have some useful knowledge in them” Jim said almost to himself and sat down beside Dean and grabbed a book he opened and started reading.

    “Morning Pastor Jim” Dean said after a short moment.

    “Well good morning Dean. It is past morning you know? Did you sleep well?” Jim asked Dean and stopped reading to look at him.

    “Yeah, sure…”

    “Good.” Jim said with a smile and started reading again.

    “You’re seriously gonna read all the pages in those bricks?” Dean asked with a frown and a lifted eyebrow.

    “Yes, and you two are welcome to join me. I know what I said last night, but I could use some help. Two jobs don’t always make room for much else.”

    “So what- are you saying we’re back on the case with you? We can help?” Dean asked and was even more surprised as Jim nodded and said:

    “Yes, you can help”.

    Dean was half excited and half already exhausted by just looking at the thick books.

    Dean got up and took his and Sam’s dishes to the sink and did the dishes. He let it air-dry on the kitchen-disk and sat down again with a heavy sigh at the sight of the books.

    “Man… this is just like back at Bobby’s…” Dean mumbled and grabbed one dusty book. He looked at it and up at Sam and smirked. He leaned his head down as he lifted the book to his face, and blew at it so the dust on it blew over at Sam’s face. Sam whined and scolded him annoyed and Dean chuckled smiling and said sorry.

    Time passed as the pages were turned. Every time they got to a thing it could possibly be they read out loud and discussed it. It was kind of nice reading while the rain poured in a steady rhythm outside and on the windows.

    So far they had hit Zombies, Witches spells; Shapeshifters of variant kinds and a handful of other things, but most just didn’t really make sense compared to what they’d head from the witnesses. A Ghost for example; there were too many dead people; they were never the same one and it was cold-ish outside so no one really talked about cold spots or anything, the sights were too wide spread; In town and in the woods, and they only saw them once and then they were gone.

    At one point Jim called for a brake and after ten minutes of sipping fresh coffee he said he’d go call some old friends and see if they knew something.

    He only got to the church-hall though, some lady looked like she’d seen a ghost and she were wet and shaking and crying with a harsh panting breath.

    Jim had called for Dean to find a blanket and Dean came with both a warm cup of tea and a warm blanket. He helped Pastor Jim put it around the trembling lady who tried to say thanks. They warmed her up and calmed her down and the tea helped much at that too.

    Jim and Dean asked what was wrong, but it was Sam who eventually asked all the right questions and got all the answers they needed. Dean smiled inwardly; Sam was a real people-person and only needed to make a certain face and ask with care in both eyes and voice and people would tell him whatever he’d wanna know.

    The woman had been out in the rain on the anniversary of her and her late husband’s marriage of only two years. But she found the grave had been dug up, partially, dirt everywhere all turned to mud in the rain and there was a foul smell the rain couldn’t cover up. There was a hole in the coffin too and there was blood and a ruined body down there, but that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was that when she looked up she saw someone hiding behind a tombstone and that someone was covered in mud and blood all over, also at the mouth like an animal, and he wore trashy partially ripped clothes… but it wasn’t just _someone_ ; it was her now five weeks dead husband, who’d died in a car-accident when he pushed someone else out of the way. She had screamed and he ran away. She had dropped the flowers and the umbrella at the sight.

    Jim prayed with her while Dean called her a cab and when she left, the rain had stopped. This was really odd. This grave digging and coffin-breaking hadn’t been in the books… or maybe they just hadn’t gotten to that part yet. But now at least they knew the dead weren’t just coming alive; their bodies were still in the coffins. Jim told them to go back to the kitchen and he’d go call those friends of his.

    After quite a while and a lot of pages later, Pastor Jim returned to them in the kitchen.

    “I think I know what this thing is now, boys!” he proclaimed, “One of the hunters I know has his residence a few towns over and he has been hunting something that sounds just like the thing we’re hunting; dead people being seen, graves dug up…”

    “So what is it?” they both asked at the same time.

    “He said he believed it’s called a ‘Ghoul’.”

    “A ‘Ghoul’?” They both asked again.

    “So what do those things do? Take a sneak-peak on the dead people and walks around like that for kicks or what?” Dean asked.

    “Not exactly…” Jim said and walked to the table and grabbed his book again and hurried through most of the last half of pages he hadn’t read yet, “He told me it should be around here somewhere… Ah! There!” He exclaimed when he found the right page and opened the book on it and read out loud from it: “Ghouls are creatures that feed off the flesh of the dead (…)” there was only one page about the Ghouls and Jim read all of it out loud for them to hear, and told them that according to both the book and Jim’s friend, “A Ghoul can only be killed through severe head trauma or decapitation.”

    “Whoa wait a minute… So, these Ghouls are basically a dead-body-munching zombie that takes the shape and memory of the loved ones people buries? God that is disgusting!”

    “Yes, I guess that sums it up alright.” Jim agreed with a frown.

    “It’s not a zombie, Dean” Sam said, his tone telling he thinks Dean’s an idiot.

    “Really Sam? A _living dead_ creature afraid of brain-damage? That sounds like a zombie to me”

    “You’re a moron”

    “ _You’re_ the moron-”

    Jim cut in before they could really start: “Take it easy boys. Let’s just call it a Ghoul and let that be that. My friend said he’d been investigating and hunting this thing and it had somehow slipped from him and has moved on to another town about a week and a half ago.”

    “And apparently that town it has made itself at home in is _this_ town.” Dean added.

    “So, what do we do now?” Sam asked.

    “We will check the cemetery and see how much damage this thing has made. My friend said there were two of them; they had apparently been travelling to find a place to stay. He had killed one already but this one had slipped through his fingers. We must find out if it is the only one that got away, and if it is alone or not. He said it was, but it’s important to make sure.”

    Sam looked at him with a frown “Don’t you trust your friend?”

    Jim just smiled at him “Yes I do. But mistakes can be made easily, so it’s always a good thing to make sure you got it right before you go on a hunt.” He explained kindly.

    “So this thing has something for corpses and cemeteries?... let’s go check it out then.” Dean said and got up from his chair. Sam and Jim followed him and they put on their jackets and went out to see the graves of the cemetery. Most graves were fine. But as they got through the cemetery and closer to the woods nearby, they found a few graves had apparently been dug up and covered up again, with the dirt collapsed a little and there being a spot of only dirt in the middle of a grave originally covered with grass. At the last grave Dean saw something in the mud of the freshly re-covered grave. He squatted down and tried to pick it up but it was stuck in the muddy ground. It was kind of soft and wobbly.

    “What is it?” Sam asked.

    “Dean put it down, it’s part of the corpse intestines” Jim told him when he got a better look at the dirty thing in Dean’s hand.

    “Ew!” Sam exclaimed, made a face and couldn’t help but feel sorry for the poor woman who had to see this before it was covered up.

    Dean dropped it right away, got up on his feet and took a few steps back while making a grimace looking at his hands like foul objects because of what they'd touched.

    Sam was laughing at his reaction and had to hug his stomach that hurt with laughing.

    “Two things are for sure…” Jim started to say.

    “Yeah, it’s definitely a Ghoul” Dean said with a look of disgust on his face.

    “That’s one. Secondly you will have to wash your hands when we get back inside” Jim says chuckling to Dean and Sam burst out in a new round of laughter so Dean just makes a disgusted sour face. Dean tried to shake it off.

    “But this is only its dinner-table. How do we find where it’s residing? And we haven’t cleared up how many Ghouls there are” Dean pointed out.

    “There’s only one Ghoul. Look at the graves; there’s only one digged up grave for every day it’s seemingly been here, there would have been more if there was more than just one…” Jim told them.

    “Yeah… right, and the witnesses all only saw _one_ dead person, like the woman from today.” Dean added to that.

    “Then what about where it lives? And how do we find it?” Sam asked.

    “We will just have to wait and see about that. We will have to follow it to see that when we go on the hunt tonight, but if it sees us or somehow knows we’re there it won’t go ‘home’, it will probably just run off so if it sees us we have to just kill it because we might not get another chance at it.” Jim instructs. “Now let get back inside and go over this again”

    They go inside and Dean, careful not to touch anything with his filthy hands, angles his way to the bathroom to wash his hands.

    Afterwards, they meet up back in the kitchen.

    “So what do we know about this thing, boys?” Jim asks and Sam and Dean take turns to add information of what they’ve gathered about this Ghoul.

    Jim is pleased with their answers. Then the topic of whether or not Sam should come with them on the hunt comes up.

    Sam is oddly not really taking part in the discussion and Dean is insistent that he goes with and argues that:

    “It’s better to stay together. We can’t go out there on the hunt and leave Sammy behind, ‘cause what if the thing knows what we’re doing somehow and decides to go after Sam while we are out there waiting for it to come dig up corpses? No, Sam goes with. You’re not going alone and I’m not staying here, so Sammy has to come. We can’t protect him if he’s all alone. We go together, stay close by each other… strength in numbers and all that”

    Eventually Dean convinces him to take Sam with so they can look out for him. Jim gives in and Sam looks like he has mixed feelings about the matter, but doesn’t say anything.

    They go on to the next topic: weapons. They goes over what they might need to kill it; close encounter, and far.

    “Guns will do fine on a distance, but close up is another matter. Do you boys have machetes?” Jim asks them.

    They both tell him no, but they have knives. Jim says they’ll each have to borrow one of his spare ones.

    Next is how to use them though. It’s a gross topic but necessary. One needs to use great force of strength to decapitate those things, or else the machete won’t go all the way through the neck and it will be an even more horrible sight and feeling when one have to try and chop it through several times.

    After that lecture they found what weapons they’d need and started cleaning them and preparing for the hunt. Sam asked Dean why he wasn’t cleaning his own weapons, saying he could clean his weapons himself. Dean told him he’d already cleaned his weapons and Sam let him help clean his after they cleaned each their borrowed machete that Jim lends them to defend themselves and/or decapitate the Ghoul if they get the chance.

    While they cleaned weapons together in the kitchen they went over the plan of tonight’s hunt.

    When that was all set and they were actually ready, there was only left to wait till it got dark so the Ghoul would show.

*~*~*

    While he’d waited for it to be time, he had thought about eating his gift of a chocolate bar, but had decided to wait till after they had stopped this Ghoul-creature as a victory-treat and had pocketed it in his jacket for later. But finally the time has come and darkness has begun to fall.

    Dean was fast to get his jacket on, put the small knife in his inner jacket-pocket, strap his holstered machete to his belt on his left side and grab both his gun and his flashlight when Jim said it was time, and he already had his boots on. He was as ready as he could be. But he had to wait for Sam and Jim to get their gear on too and he put the flashlight in the back of his pants under his jacket and waited.

    _Finally_ they took off on the hunt to the cemetery. They were all prepared with their guns, flashlights and their machetes so they could either shoot them in the head or decapitate them, because if they were to stop it, they had to either damage its brain or chop its head off, and as it became darker still, they were gonna need the flashlights to see where they were going if things didn’t go down as planned. 

    They noticed some movement and split up as planned so they could trap it from all sides and that way cut it off from ways to escape. But before they could it had vanished from the grave they had seen it digging at. “Where did it go?” Sam asked and just as he’d said it he was jumped by the Ghoul so he dropped his gun and the machete.

    _‘Sammy no!’_ Dean thought just about to panic, but he shook it clear of his head and set his mind; if he was to save Sammy, he couldn’t let it know where he was, even as his brother were screaming for him in terror.

    Dean’s eyes found Pastor Jim and they nodded to each other and Jim stepped forward with lowered weapons in a show of peace, it sneered at him and hissed at Sam to shut up before it started insulting them with being hunters and being the actual monsters. Jim tried to talk it into letting Sam go but it refused and started to tell them the whole sob-story of its ‘life’… _‘or dead life... or undead life. Not exactly the easiest thing to determine.’_ He dismissed the thoughts and concentrated on what he needed to do now.

    Dean somehow managed to sneak his way up close behind it while it was focused on Jim and Sam. But he wasn’t close enough yet and just before he almost was, he stepped on a small branch that broke under his shoe and the Ghoul heard him and spun around fast, still holding Sammy in its tight grip.

    Dean had to act fast and he pulled the machete from its holster, and swung at it to get it to release his brother.

    Thankfully it worked; the thing had to lean backwards to avoid getting slashed in the face, as it did so, it loosened the grip on Sam enough to drop him down on his feet on the ground, but still holding him loosely.

    Dean noticed. He hurried to grab Sam by the chest of his closed jacket, swung the machete at the Ghoul again, making it let go of Sam and lean backwards and taking a step backwards to avoid the blade.

    Now Dean took the chance; he dragged Sam out of its grasp and in the same fluid motion shoved Sam behind himself to protect him. It took off running the opposite direction, running in a big bow past Pastor Jim who wasn’t late to follow and started chasing it as it ran towards the woods.

    Dean wanted to run after it too, but had to make sure Sam was okay first and turned around to check. Sam was on the ground, Dean had apparently shoved him a bit too hard so he’d lost balance or something and fell.

    “You alright Sammy?” Dean asked worried and grabbed Sam’s right arm and helped him back up on his feet.

    “You could have cut me!” Sam said angrily.

    “Yeah well I didn’t! I know what I’m doing and it saved you. Answer the question”

    “Yeah, I’m okay Dean. Thanks.” Sam mumbled and brushed some dirt off. He looked a bit scared.

    “You sure you’re okay?”

    “I’m sorry Dean, I didn’t mean to-“

    “Don’t worry about it Sammy, it wasn’t your fault. Now answer me; you sure you’re okay?”

    Sam just nodded. That had to be good enough for now. They were still on the hunt and had to catch up with Pastor Jim to help. So Dean just hurried collecting Sam’s weapons and gave them back to him.

    “Good. Here, grab your stuff and get stay close to me, then you’ll be fine” Dean said and started running after Jim.

    “Hey, wait for me!” Sam shouted and ran to follow.

    “Run faster Sammy! That thing ain’t gonna wait for you to catch up!” Dean shouted and looked back to see Sam was a good deal behind. He sighed and ran to Sam, grabbed his hand and said: “Come on, hurry up, dude!” and ran with his brother in tow and let go after a short while so Sam had to keep up himself.

    They caught up to Jim after a bit and Jim was standing still just watching his surroundings carefully. And signaling they needed to be silent.

    “Where is it?” Sam whispered this time and they both shushed him and watched out and listened for any kind of movement or any sound.

    There was very silent for a while. Not even a cricket. The thing had possibly scared them away. Then there was movement and it moved fast, but still at a normal fast speed for humans.

    “There! It ran that way!” Dean told them and set after it and they followed. _‘It must have been running a lot.’_ He thought.

    “Wait up!” Sam said and hurried to follow them as fast as he could, but he just got shushed at and briefly pulled or pushed along from time to time.

    After a while of running they could see how the trees split in two path-like ways and Jim and Dean just looked at each other and ran each their way, Jim following the road the Ghoul had run and Dean taking the other path, so they could surprise the thing and catch it further on. Dean looked back at Sam signaling that he should hurry up and follow him, and then he only looked straight ahead to see where he was running.

    Sam tried several times to tell Dean to slow down, but Dean was dead set on catching this thing and shushed on him and kept telling him to run faster and said that he should have trained more, this thing didn’t wait.

    He really tried to hurry and run fast but he kept getting further behind. Then the paths met and became one again and they could see Jim and the Ghoul run further on. Dean once again told Sam to move faster, grabbed his wrist and dragged him with a short bit of the way till they got closer to Jim. Jim and Dean exchanged a few words Sam couldn’t hear and ran on.

    Sam’s side began to hurt and he slowed down. He gave up trying to tell them to slow down and at one point he just slowed to a stop to catch his breath and could only watch as his brother and Jim vanished into the woods following the Ghoul together.

    The Ghoul had looked too frustratingly much like a regular person, a human… a man. Sam thought about the woman from earlier and if that might have been what her husband had looked like before he died.

    Then Sam heard something. He stopped breathing for a moment and just held his breath, listening hard for anything it could have been. Was it Dean who had come back to look for him? Or was it the Ghoul, who’d managed to lose them, now going back to finish its meal? Or maybe even to kill Sam, as the “hunters spawn” as it had called him? Sam suddenly became very aware that he was all alone right now, and if that sound wasn’t Dean, then he had no one to come and save him.

    He looked around to every side around him, but he couldn’t see a thing. He was afraid that if he turned on the flashlight he’d just pinpoint his location to the creature. So instead he tried to silently flee out of the way of the path and in between some trees and bushes to get away from whatever or whoever it might have been. If it was Dean he was sure he’d find him; that seemed to be the only thing Dean ever did at times, whenever he wanted to be alone he always knew Dean wasn’t far away… it was both a curse and a blessing… but he knew Dean only did it for Sam’s sake, to make sure he was safe, though it could be really annoying, he never really got time alone, not for very long anyway.

    Right now he actually wished a little that it was Dean. But it wasn’t, the sound was gone. He let his breath out, surprised that he forgot he was still holding it. He was panting again now, but there wasn’t much sound in the woods otherwise.

    Then suddenly that sound was back again, but it was closer by. Maybe the thing had gotten the same idéa as he had; to get off the path?

    Sam was close to panic but just froze and hoped not to be seen. But there was something weird about the noise; it didn’t seem to pass by… actually, it didn’t seem to be moving really; it still came from the same direction no matter how long he waited for it to pass. And it sounded like just bushes rattling somewhere.

    Then there was a high pitched whine. Sam frowned; that didn’t sound right. The bushy rattling kept sounding. His curiosity got the best of him and he started walking towards the sound.

    As he got closer the sound became more audible, but he still couldn’t see anything. The rattling got wilder. Then as he stepped through some bushes, scratching leaves against his pants the sound of it stopped, dead silent. Now Sam definitely didn’t know where the sound had come from, the silence didn’t reveal a thing. But after a short while the sound started up again with some kind of whining, wordless sound. He walked closer, this time more careful of where he walked. Now he could see a bunch of big bushes rattle and shake. He saw something inside the bush he just couldn’t see what it was. But whatever it was, it was too small to be the Ghoul or a person, so he was a bit relieved and stepped closer to see, keeping his gun up and ready if he had to use it.

    As he stepped closer the raddling stopped for a second, and suddenly the thing in the bushes was growling warningly at him and he nearly jumped back. Instead he held his ground and it didn’t attack. He saw something red in there. He wondered what it was. Stepping closer it started to bark at him and he instantly knew he had to do with some kind of dog or something like that. He put away the gun and found his flashlight in his pocket. Turning it on he saw, that it was indeed a dog; by the looks of it, it is a medium-sized poodle.

    It’s growling threatening at him and as he steps closer it starts barking insanely and trying hard to get away, making the bushes rattle like crazy.

    It doesn’t scare him away though; he just makes a grimace, pitying the poor animal for being stuck in a bush, scared half to death.

    He tries to calm it down with calming noises, shushing and talking to it in a soothing manner. It seems to work and as he calms it further it stops barking at him but still growls a little, but Sam tells it that it’s okay. As it slows its movement and eventually stops moving around and stops trying to get away, he can move closer without frightening it. So he pushes a few branches out of the way so he can better see and the red from before catch his eyes again. Turns out it is the red dog-leash, attached to the poodle’s collar that had gotten entangled in the bush somehow.

    Sam keeps talking calmingly to the frightened, shaking poodle, telling it he’s a friend and he is gonna help it out. When he reaches in a hand it makes a brief growling sound that turns into a whine and he tells it again that it’s okay and lets it sniff to his hand. It starts licking his hand and he chuckles at it and starts helping its leash free of the branches.

    Soon the dog is free and jumping up Sam’s chest, licking him all over the face, and making happy little noises and wagging its tail with joy. The poor thing is dirty and wet all over and it makes him wonder for how long it must have been stuck here, and it must be hungry too. Sam tells it to sit and sees a dog-tag. He flashes the light on it and reads a phone number and an address. He turns it and reads its name; it says “Puchy”. And he recalls Dean telling about a lady who lost her dog in the woods. Maybe this was her dog? There was one way to find out; he was gonna call her and ask. He knew it was late, but she probably wouldn’t mind it if it meant she got her dog back.

    He searched his pockets for his phone and frowned. “Where did I put it?” he couldn’t find it. He must have dropped it somewhere. He sighed.

    Well, there was still the address on the dog-tag. And Jim and Dean were occupied at the moment and didn’t really need his help at catching the Ghoul. He’d probably just delay them or screw things up somehow like getting captured by the thing again. He still felt bad about that though Dean told him it wasn’t his fault. Maybe he was just not cut out for this job? At first he’d wanted to do it because both Dean and Dad were doing it, even if Dean only got to do it _sometimes_. But now that he knew more, he didn’t know… He sometimes wished they could just be a normal family and that there were no monsters to hunt.

    Sam got up on his feet again. “No… they don’t need me. They’re probably better off without me. They are already hunting the Ghoul without me right now. I don’t know why they wanted me to come with in the first place anyway… or rather why Dean would. He has already forgotten all about me. Let’s go Puchy… I’ll follow you home.”

    Now he only needed to find his way back out of this forest. He flashed the flashlight around to find out which way to go, and he found a new path. Sam looked closely down the path; there seemed to be someone walking on it… there was a light and a shape of a man. “Maybe he can help?”

*~*~*

    In the meantime Jim and Dean have managed to trick the Ghoul and trap it in a small opening of trees with the line of the trees having grown too close to run between.

    The two of them works well together against the angry and frightened Ghoul. Dean goes right around it on Jims signal. Jim stays where he is, if he goes left around he’ll only make room for it to run back the way they came from and right now Dean is covering the second path and escape route. The thing has the choice between trying to run past either Jim and into its certain death, or try to run past Dean, a smaller but not necessarily easier hunter to escape and _might_ die.

    Or it could just attack one of them, which it does; it jumps right at Dean, tries to kill him and get him out of the way. But Dean isn’t that easy to get rid of and won’t let it pass him though it’s attacking him, so he has to back away to not get hurt and he has the machete in his hand, the shotgun put away safely in the inside of his jacket where he has sewn a pocket for it himself.

    Jim knows if he moves out of his spot, the Ghoul will be out of there before they know it. It’s a tight space to dance around on but it’s not close enough that he can get to him and Dean and make sure it won’t run away.

    “Dean?!” Jim yells worried.

    “I’ve got it!”

    He’s backing away trying not to be hit by the branch it has picked up first thing when its run-away-routes was cut off. He’s swinging the machete at it but it won’t back off and gets too close. It is kicking, hitting after him and grabbing for him and at one moment, just as he has swung after it, it jumps closer and is about to hit him, but he gets the machete up just in time to use it as a shield and the branch gets stuck on it with the blade half way through. It growls and then grabs for him with its hands instead but catches the home-made pocket for his sawed-off shotgun and rips it so the gun falls to the ground and it stands with the peace of clothes in its hands.

    “Hey I made that!” Dean scolds it, but it throws the piece away and grabs his wrist with its free hand, still holding the branch with the other and tries to wrench it out of his hand and he hits it with his free hand, and grunts with the effort.

    Finally Dean has the Ghoul a bit down the path he’s blocking, and Jim can leave his spot and help him. Jim hurries to come to his rescue as fast as he can and jumps in to save Dean. Then, after a bit more of struggle, Jim succeeds and eventually, after a lot of tries to only damage it’s head and not expose Dean to the sight of a head separated from its body, he just goes ahead; finishes it off by chopping off its head.

    They are both left standing panting heavily beside its body, catching their breaths.

    “That was about time…” Dean said and looked up at Jim with a smile. “I got tired of running a while back” they both laugh briefly. Dean scans the area briefly with his eyes and frowns. “Where’s Sam?”

    They both straighten up and look around. There’s no one around. They look at each other and know each their worried features are mirrored on their own face.

    “Sammy?!” Dean yelled and ran to the path they had come from but he stopped, cause he couldn’t see a thing. He got his flashlight and turned it on and pointed it down the path. He couldn’t see him anywhere down the path.

    “ **Sammy!?** Sahm-!...” Dean suddenly couldn’t breathe – he had lost Sammy somewhere in the freaking forest, he’d forgotten to make sure he was with them! _‘How could I forget that? Sam asked me to slow down why didn’t I do it? Where is he now? Is he okay? Shit, he is all alone! Why did I bring him? Why didn’t I listen to him? What if I can’t find him? What if something has happened to him? Is this all my fault? Way to prove my worth!’_ Dean was hyperventilating by the mere thought that he’d lost Sam somewhere in the forest and the thought that something could have happened to his brother because of him. _‘It’s all my fault! I wanted to go on the hunt, not Sam! Why didn’t I just listen to Jim? Or at least ask Sam if he wanted to go? I didn’t do my job, I lost him, I put him in danger, I didn’t look out for him! How could I forget?!’_

    Jim had to catch Dean as he was about to collapse to his knees because he couldn’t breathe. Jim talked to him and got through to him. He calmed Dean down a bit and promised they’d find him.

    Dean got himself together and collected his stuff so he could go and find Sam. Dean asked about the Ghoul-corpse. Jim tells Dean not to worry; he’ll take care of that later and together they go on searching for Sam, calling out his name… But they find nothing and Sam doesn’t come and he doesn’t answer.

    Dean was going out of his mind, freaking out about the absence of his baby-brother, and worried half to death that something might have happened to him. Cause what if they’d missed something? Dean even called Sam’s cellphone a bunch of times, but he still didn’t answer.

    _‘Why isn’t he answering his freaking phone? Where could he have gone? Could something have taken him? Were there more than the one Ghoul we thought there were?’_

    Dean couldn’t relax. This went too slow. All the twisting and turning paths they’d run through and all the paths they had crossed… there were just too many possibilities and too little time. Dean said they should split up and cover more ground that way, but Jim didn’t want him to leave his side, saying then they’d both be lost. Dean just asked if Jim had his cellphone with him. He had, Dean told him to put it on sound and disabled the mute on his own phone as well. He talked Jim into agreeing to his plan of splitting up to search the woods for Sammy and to call one another when they did.

    Then they went down each a path and called out for Sam while looking out for any trace of him.

    “SAMMY?! WHERE ARE YOU? ANSWER ME! **SAM?!** SAMMY?!” Dean shouted with the full force of his lunges at first, he had to tone it down if he wanted to be able to talk once he found him. _‘Don’t worry Sammy, I’ll find you! I’m coming’_

    **“SAMMY?!”** …

***~*~***

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you'll tell me what your thoughts of this chapter were! .. (;  
> And did you think this chapter was too long? ..
> 
> About the confessional: I'm still tremendously unsure about how things work in the many churches and if they all have a confessional or if it's only a certain kind of church who does, so I just went for it and hoped I did it right .. I hope not to offend anyone! ..


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